writer

Ask a Demon - New Book Edition by Ryan Hill

 

Today marks the release of Bart of Darkness, Verse 2 in my epic tome, The Book of Bart

 

Darkness chronicles my adventures trying to uncover a powerful cult that's intent on breaking the balance between Heaven and Hell, sending the entire world into chaos. 

Okay, yes, Samantha helped. A little.

And just like I did with making a historical record of The Book of Bart - Verse 1, I used a ghostwriter for Darkness.

Why use a ghostwriter? Simple, really.

I've got better things to do.

I'm not the type to sit down in front of a computer for days on end, stringing together enough words to make a book. Even I'm not that sadistic.

I'm also one of those who likes to get the attention/praise/ego boost without putting the work in. My ghostwriter puts in the elbow grease, I reap the rewards. I don't know how he feels about the arrangement, but it suits me just fine.

Let's turn the Ask a Demon format on its head and ask Ryan!

Q (Bart): How honored do you feel putting pen to paper to tell my story?

A (Ryan): Oh, extremely. You wouldn't believe. It's the most beautiful thing.

Q (Bart): Is that sarcasm?

A (Ryan): I don't know. Is it?

Q (Bart): Would you rather I found someone else to tell my story?

A (Ryan): We both know that nobody else would tell your story as well as I do at the pay you offer.

Q (Bart): True. So what keeps you coming back, Mr. I wish I had a raise but the world just doesn't work that way?

A (Ryan): Same reason you won't write your story. I've got nothing better to do.

Q (Bart): That's ridiculous. There's nothing better you could possibly do with your day than tell my story.

A (Ryan): Says you.

The Q&A gets a little muffled at this point, since I had to teach Ryan a thing or two about gratitude.

A (Ryan): I apologize for my earlier hubris. Telling Bart's story is the honor of a lifetime. A thousand lifetimes, even. -wipes blood from nose-

And there you have it! Ryan loves telling my story (as well he should). 

You can see how amazing my story is yourself over at Amazon

Check it out!

Whole 30 Update No. 4 - Rebellion by Ryan Hill

 

This Whole 30 demon, "life style change," whatever you want to call it, is a never-ending pit of despair and hopelessness that would make even the most peppy person's butt hole cringe. On Saturday, my wonderful fiancee and I - led by me - went into full on rebellion mode. 

rebel.jpg

For the day.

And it felt glorious.

I've mentioned before how food is not only for the body, but the soul. After a day of ingesting all the junk and alcohol our bodies could stand, I can say that good food is almost as important for your spirit as your body.

So what if I gained three pounds that day? WORTH IT.

This week has been more of the same. A little cheating here and there, but trying to keep it under control. Whole 30 is no longer running/ruining the lives of my wonderful fiancee and myself. We've applied some lessons learned, but the program as a whole? (Phrasing). FINITO.

That program can eat a bag of pig's feet covered in grass and dirt.

 

Blaze Pub's Haunted Halloween Tour with Case Maynard! by Ryan Hill

 

October is the month of fears, and we're going on tour with some of our favorite authors to talk about what their main characters are afraid of. What keeps them up at night? What nightmare has them waking in a cold sweat? Each day, we'll feature a new main character and delve deep into their subconscious to see what they fear. And each day, you'll have a chance to enter to win some awesome prizes! We met Vee from our recent dystopian release The Surrendered, but now we're getting to know her a bit better by finding out what haunts her each night when she closes her eyes... 

My name is Vee Delancourt, and my biggest fear is all about failure. In a world where the nation abuses its children in unspeakable ways, losing this fight just isn’t an option. I hope I can prove myself worthy of the trust so many have put in me. I hope I can one day redeem myself for the mistakes that I’ve already made. . .and for the lives that have already been lost.

She’s here, my old friend is. Stalking my sleep again.

Well, not her exactly, but some version of her. While the pale skin is the same, if maybe a shade lighter, the hesitant smiles I once marveled at have disappeared. A twisted scowl now decorates her gray lips. Grayish. Not quite blue; not quite white. The color of death.

“You,” she snarls at me, one thin finger aimed in my direction. “You killed us all.”

I shake my head, backing until I come in contact with something. I don’t have to look to know it’s the big covered truck from Hopkins Farm. I’ve been here before, in these very Mills, on this very day. It’s the day that everything changed. The day I escaped the System and set into motion a chain of events that would forever change the lives of so many people. Not all for the better.

My ethereal pursuer continues to advance on me, and my heart races wildly in my chest. “I didn’t mean to!” I cry, pleading with her to understand. “I didn’t know so many would die!”

“Die, die, die. We’re all dead. We died. We’re done. Dead.” Babbling is her only response.

My chest squeezes. Something’s not right. Isn’t there supposed to be peace in the beyond? A great releasement of all the bad experiences? A big screw you to all who did you wrong? This is unfair.

 She hesitates in her advance, her feet floating stationary over the dirt path for one moment. Her head tilts slightly, as though listening to sounds in the distance. She grimaces, shudders, and then moans. “They beckon. They call. . ..” She throws her head back, wailing, “No! I will not go!”

I cover my ears at the thunderous howl, releasing a scream of my own. “Let me help you! Let me fix this!”

Another murderous shriek sounds as I step toward her. “I don’t want to go! Make it stop! I WILL NOT GO!”

I sob, the gasping sounds ripped from my chest as I struggle to stay upright. I feel the blackness trying to take me even now. “Please. Please let me make this right.”

Her head drops forward, drool running from her mouth and over her chin. Colorless eyes swing back to me, and in them I see a sorrow unlike any I have ever witnessed. “You’ve done enough, little rebel. Selfish. Unthinking. Ignorant, rebel. You killed us all.”

“No.” My head continues to deny, but my heart twists at the knowledge that she’s. . .right. She’s dead because of me. Tears overspill my eyes, tracking marks through the grime on my cheeks. I choke. “But I was only trying to help you.”

Her bark of laughter startles me and I jerk in surprise when her finger points again, this time to my left. “Fail. Failing. Failed.” She cackles. And what of them? Will you help them too?”

My head turns.

They’re all there. My dear, sweet friends. Ann and John William. Cason. Matthew. My father. The Overseer. The Master. Asa. All the children. There are so many of them, both known and unknown.

All with the same murderous intent.

To make me pay.

about the book

 

After a financial collapse devastates the United States, the new government imposes a tax on the nation’s most valuable resource—the children.

Surrendered at age ten—after her parents could no longer afford her exorbitant fees—Vee Delancourt has spent six hard years at the Mills, alongside her twin, Oliver. With just a year to freedom, they do what they can to stay off the Master’s radar. But when Vee discovers unspeakable things happening to the younger girls in service, she has no choice but to take a stand—a decision that lands her on the run and outside the fence for the first time since the System robbed her of her liberty.

Vee knows the Master will stop at nothing to prove he holds ultimate authority over the Surrendered. But when he makes a threat that goes beyond what even she considers possible, she accepts the aid of an unlikely group of allies. Problem is, with opposing factions gunning for the one thing that might save them all, Vee must find a way to turn oppression and desperation into hope and determination—or risk failing all the children and the brother she left behind.

Now available!

Amazon - iBooks - Barnes & Noble - Kobo - Signed Copies - Goodreads

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Blaze Pub's Haunted Halloween Tour with... Me! by Ryan Hill

 

October is the month of fears, and we're going on tour with some of our favorite authors to talk about what their main characters are afraid of. What keeps them up at night? What nightmare has them waking in a cold sweat? Each day, we'll feature a new main character and delve deep into their subconscious to see what they fear. And each day, you'll have a chance to enter to win some awesome prizes!

Bailey is the sixteen-year-old protagonist of the Paranormal Comedy THE CONCH SHELL OF DOOM by Ryan Hill. When Bailey isn’t fighting off sea monsters, he’s fighting off his friends’ snark, a healthy fear of rejection, and anxiety. But rejection isn't the only thing he's afraid of...

What am I most afraid of? by Bailey Southwick

What am I not afraid of is probably the better question. I’m afraid my friends will find out who I have a secret crush on- actually, let’s leave her name out of it. If they ever found out, I’d never hear the end of it. I know a lot of people say, “Oh, I’d never hear the end of it,” but I’m serious. Marshall and Tim would hound me until I moved to Allakaket, Alaska, population 107. Even then, I’d still get texts, emails, and even real mail from them with more jokes. To top it off, one of them – most likely Marshall – would make sure the crush knew I liked them in the most public and humiliating way possible.

Maybe Allakaket isn’t the worst idea.

I’m also afraid of goblin sharks, sand soldiers, and having some bad guy’s head put on my body. Definitely the last one. No, my body isn’t the most athletic, but I’m still growing into it? Also, it’s mine. I don’t want some gross head taking control, rendering me basically dead. No way. That’d stink.

Also, I’m afraid of my anxiety. It pops up at random moments and causes all kinds of problems. I do my best to manage it, but that can only get me so far sometimes. I wish it weren’t the case, but it’s the lens through which I view life. It makes me who I am, and it can make me my own worst enemy.

about the book

Bailey didn’t mean to catch his parents plotting to unleash the sinister Trenton Maroney and his powerful oceanic army on the world. It was an honest mistake. Now, he’s got the horribly disfigured Mr. Lovell on his trail, which is doing wonders for Bailey’s anxiety.

His only ally is Franklin, a burn-out several decades past wishing his brother Trenton was destroyed for good. Franklin has battled his brother for two thousand years, and has nothing to show for it except his beloved Mustang.

To stop Mr. Lovell from awakening Trenton, Franklin and Bailey will have to get past his parents, a one-eyed stoner, crooked cops, giant Scotsmen, and Trenton’s army, which can only be summoned by one thing: the mysterious Conch Shell of Doom.

Amazon

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Blaze Pub's Haunted Halloween Tour with The Carver's Jacob Devlin! by Ryan Hill

 

 

October is the month of fears, and we're going on tour with some of our favorite authors to talk about what their main characters are afraid of. What keeps them up at night? What nightmare has them waking in a cold sweat? Each day, we'll feature a new main character and delve deep into their subconscious to see what they fear. And each day, you'll have a chance to enter to win some awesome prizes! Read on to find out what our dear friend Peter Pan Pietro from Jacob Devlin's The Carver worries about at night...

Hey everybody! Pietro Volo here, your favorite character ever from The Carver and the handsome, dashing alter ego of your favorite Lost Boy, Peter Pan.

Friends, I know what they say about me. I’ve seen the movies. I’ve listened to the songs. If I’ve understood them correctly, the stories ask you to believe the following:

  1. That I am still a ten-year-old boy.

  2. That I need a bottle of Gorilla Glue to stick my shadow to my toes.

  3. That I’m going to fly into your children’s windows and whisk them off to some isolated world filled with man-eating gators and pirates, kinda like how I picture Florida.

There was a time when all of this might have been true, but it bewilders my brains to believe that all these stories handle this so casually. The songs are slow, soulful, and even a little touching. But now that I have a fifteen-year-old son? Dude, I’m freaked. What if there’s another me flying around world and he’s determined to snatch moody teenagers right out of their beds and zoom them off to a place where we can’t get a hold of them because AT&T doesn’t reach that far? This is scary. Zack doesn’t even wear pants to bed.

*clicks on flashlight and points it under my chin*

That is one of my worst nightmares. The other one is a terrible dream that I have all. The. Time. You know who else likes to fly through your window while you’re sleeping? The Sandman. He’s supposed to bring you some nice REM, but when he gets sick, we all get these recurring fever dreams.

You’ll never guess what my nightmares involve. There are some tiny changes from night to night, but they always involve one freaky element that kicks me--hard, I’ll have you know--right in the Assassin’s Creed parts I and II. One time, I was on top of Mount Everest. Don’t ask me how my lazy bum got up there, but then there was an earthquake that brought the whole mountain down. Another night, I was standing on top of Clocher de Pierre, the bell tower offering the best view of Florindale, and my shadow took a torch and lit the base on fire. I’ve also been on a tightrope across two skyscrapers, and my wife and kid are at either side holding Santoku kitchen knives. How fair is that, Sandman? But my least favorite is probably the Ferris Wheel, which is clearly falling apart as I swing back and forth at the very top by one hand.

But wait! you say. You can fly! I get that a lot when I talk about nightmares. You can fly, you can fly, you can fly. Well, hey. You ever have those dreams where you’re being chased by like, a leathery winged demon, or a dude with a bloody axe, or an animatronic orangutan from Disneyland? And sometimes, your feet plant roots into the carpet or you suddenly weigh a hundred thousand pounds? That’s me. That’s Murphy’s Law. When the Ferris Wheel crashes into dust, you don’t get to fly.

Yeah, the Sandman’s a friggin’ jerk. You should hear about how many times Prince Liam’s had to fight off a dragon with a toothpick, or Snow White’s twisted dream where her feet turn into apples. Hansel? Pretty sure his nightmares are drizzled on a graham cracker and loaded with a generous coat of pure sugar. Hey, that might be a beautiful dream for you and I, but that guy probably wakes up plastered in sweat. Gross!

I wanna share something a morally grey, shady magical fairy once told me on one of the scariest nights of my life. Do not be angry when your shadow eludes you, she said. After all, shadows are born from the light. The world can be a real scary place sometimes. There’s violence and pure hate. There are hateful queens, chameleon wolves, and aquamantulas. There are deceptions and cancers and poisonous fruits, and Space Mountain breaks down when you’re in line. And the Sandman doesn’t care. But, I’m here to remind you that it takes a light to cast a shadow (unless it’s my shadow--this thing doesn’t obey me or physics or anything.) Find your light source. It can be anything. Family. A hobby. A good book and a Netflix show to binge on. Or, you know, me… But whatever you do, I really hope you don’t turn to a mirror to solve your problems. I mean, you can, but good things don’t usually happen. That’s another story for later.

Happy Halloween, Lost Children! BOO!

about the book

 

THE GIRL IN THE RED HOOD has been looking for her mother for six months, searching from the depths of New York’s subways to the heights of its skyscrapers . . .

THE PRINCE looks like he’s from another time entirely, or maybe he’s just too good at his job at Ye Old Renaissance Faire . . .

THE ACTRESS is lighting up Hollywood Boulevard with her spellbinding and strikingly convincing portrayal of a famous fairy. Her name may be big, but her secrets barely fit in one world...

Fifteen-year-old Crescenzo never would have believed his father’s carvings were anything more than “stupid toys.” All he knows is a boring life in an ordinary Virginia suburb, from which his mother and his best friend have been missing for years. When his father disappears next, all Crescenzo has left is his goofy neighbor, Pietro, who believes he’s really Peter Pan and that Crescenzo is the son of Pinocchio. What’s more: Pietro insists that they can find their loved ones by looking to the strange collection of wooden figurines Crescenzo’s father left behind.

With Pietro’s help, Crescenzo sets off on an adventure to unite the real life counterparts to his figurines. It’s enough of a shock that they’re actually real, but the night he meets the Girl in the Red Hood, dark truths burst from the past. Suddenly, Crescenzo is tangled in a nightmare where magic mirrors and evil queens rule, and where everyone he loves is running out of time.

Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Signed Copies - Goodreads

Ask a Demon! by Ryan Hill

 

What makes someone an expert on advice? Experience? Education? Is a former heroin addict more qualified to help a drug addict seeking help than a doctor or psychiatrist? Does the addict's real-life experience make for a better perspective? How about a demon that's existed for thousands upon thousands of years? A demon that's seen and done most everything one could do within the realm of human existence. 

Bash a caveman over the head with a giant bone? Check.

Get crucified? More than once? Check and double check.

Destroy a fragile peace between two warring nations by deflowering a princess betrothed to a prince from another land? Check, check, and check.

In short, don't hate the player. Hate the game.

Have a question for me? Send it to ryan@ryanhillwrites.com with the subject line ASK A DEMON. Otherwise, the nitwit who owns the email address will answer your question. Trust me, you don't want that happening. He's a boob.

Joshua from Charlotte asks:

My boss is a real jerk. He makes us work Saturdays, but he never shows up. He's making our lives miserable. Any ideas on how to get him back?

Hmmmm yeah. Is your boss Bill Lundberg, by any chance? Do you need to go ahead and come in on Sunday, too?

Question. If your boss never shows up to work on Saturday, how will your boss know if you don't? If by some chance your boss can find out if you played hookie, hire a prostitute to seduce your boss, then make a sex tape. Not only will working on Saturdays be a thing of the past, but so will your salary... because methinks a raise is in order.

Jake from Miami asks:

What's Hell like? Are there multiple levels? Is it hot, or is that just an old wives tale? Speaking of old wives, what's the easiest way to dispose of a body? Asking for a friend.

I love Hell. Spent the past million or so years calling that place my home. Hell is also a lot like the Matrix. It can't be described, only seen. Dante got some stuff right in his Inferno, but I can't say what. You'll have to see for yourself!

As for the body, you can do what Walter White did in that one episode of Breaking Bad. If your stomach is too weak to handle melting a human body, find a pig farm. Those porkers will take care of the rest.

Need advice from Bartholomew? Want to know what movie to see this weekend? Send your question to ryan@ryanhillwrites.com.

 

THE AUTHORDOME with THE SURRENDERED Author Case Maynard! by Ryan Hill

 

Case Maynard spent 20 years working in the legal and medical fields before hanging it all up to pursue writing. With The Surrendered, Case's writing dreams have come to fruition. But that's not important here.

What is important is whether or not she can survive the grinder that is... the AUTHORDOME.

Two authors enter.

Two authors leave.

After a financial collapse devastates the United States, the new government imposes a tax on the nation’s most valuable resource—the children.

Surrendered at age ten—after her parents could no longer afford her exorbitant fees—Vee Delancourt has spent six hard years at the Mills, alongside her twin, Oliver. With just a year to freedom, they do what they can to stay off the Master’s radar. But when Vee discovers unspeakable things happening to the younger girls in service, she has no choice but to take a stand—a decision that lands her on the run and outside the fence for the first time since the System robbed her of her liberty.

Vee knows the Master will stop at nothing to prove he holds ultimate authority over the Surrendered. But when he makes a threat that goes beyond what even she considers possible, she accepts the aid of an unlikely group of allies. Problem is, with opposing factions gunning for the one thing that might save them all, Vee must find a way to turn oppression and desperation into hope and determination—or risk failing all the children and the brother she left behind.

Now available!

Amazon - iBooks - Barnes & Noble - Kobo - Signed Copies - Goodreads

 

 
 

Hey Case! Thank you for submitting yourself to the endurance challenge known as the AUTHORDOME. Based on your debut novel, THE SURRENDERED, this may be a similar experience for you. Do you think you're prepared?

As prepared as I’ll ever be, Ryan. An added bonus to all of the research I did for The Surrendered and what it would take to survive an end of the world scenario is that now I’m basically a professional survivalist. Hit me with your best shot.

In THE SURRENDERED, children are the nation's most valuable resource? Does it have anything to do with Lionel Richie believing that they are the future? If not, WHY?

Not really. And it has nothing to do with Whitney Houston believing they are the future either. In fact, Whitney begged that the children be taught well and encouraged to lead the way. Unfortunately, the children in The Surrendered are treated as slaves and taught only the skills that are useful to the System and to their local communities: woodworking, medicinal herbs, weaponry, sewing, etc. It’s a sad life. Perhaps these kids will get enough of it and realize they have “Nothing Left to Give” (and that actually is a Lionel Ritchie song).

Ryan note: medicinal herbs sounds like a good skill...

I haven't read THE SURRENDERED, but it seems the children are put into some kind of work camp. Are there not child labor laws in this future you've created? Can just anyone exploit this free labor? I have some chores around the house that need doing...

Actually, it’s the laws of this new future that have turned these children into slaves. The System, in an effort to recoup money that was lost in a financial collapse, has made all of the kids taxable commodities. Parents are forced to pay exorbitant fees for their offspring. And if they don’t pay? The children are surrendered to work in the local mines, mills, and farms to produce the items that the communities now rely on for survival. It’s possible you could strike a deal with the Master or the Overseer and see about getting some help around your house, especially if there is compensation involved. These new leaders will do most anything, as long as it benefits them.

Will THE SURRENDERED be a trilogy of terror? Quadrology? Septology? Some form of biology/zoology?

If I could figure out a way to make The Surrendered a zoology, I would (because that would be totally cool!). But for now, it’s just a trilogy. I’m currently working on the second book, tentatively titled The Underground. While The Surrendered is a tale set in the sleepy south, The Underground moves the characters further north to a steampunky underground world full of awesome new inventions. It’s sort of my version of the “Industrial Revolution.”

THE SURRENDERED, with its plot revolving around kids in peril, brings to mind THE HUNGER GAMES series. Can you tell us the ways in which your novel will make THE HUNGER GAMES bow and surrender (GET IT????? BECAUSE KATNISS USES A BOW AND YOUR BOOK IS CALLED THE SURRENDERED????????) to your far superior work of fiction.

I somehow doubt The Hunger Games will ever bow and surrender to any other work of fiction, even my far superior one. There are obvious similarities between The Hunger Games and The Surrendered: futuristic, totalitarian government-ruled worlds that use oppression to control the populations, however, there are many more differences than there are similarities. I do think that fans of The Hunger Games will find in The Surrendered some of the same elements that made them fans of Collins’ work, but I also believe they will find in it new and unique characters, plots, and an altogether different tone that will make it a favorite for them also.

Aside from the obvious (diapers, clothes, toys, food, alcohol - for the parents), why are children so expensive in THE SURRENDERED? Is it that you don't like kids? It's okay to say yes. This is a safe place.

The children are only expensive because of the new government rule. The Commander, who issued The Tax to begin with, cares only about lining his pockets with the fees received from the families. He’s altogether not a nice guy. Not even a little. And I adore children. At least the bigger ones who can basically fend for themselves.

I see you're a Florida State fan. Did you go to school there? I went to N.C. State. Ever since the '80s ended, the Wolfpack have for some reason been banned from having nice things. What's it like having nice things, like a Top 5 football team?

I was born and raised in Tallahassee, FL, but I didn’t go to school at Florida State. I lived in Atlanta briefly, and this is where I attended school, but I never stopped loving my Noles. Being a Seminole fan is the best; we have the most awesome fans in the world! And we’re top two. Just saying.

Ryan note: No, Florida State does not have the best fans in the world. Try losing for almost 30 years and still having a rabid fan base. Then talk to me about having the "best" fans. Ugh.

Ryan note No. 2: I think you mean Top 12. Bwahahahahaha. Losers.

My little sister went to Georgia for grad school, so they're my de facto SEC team. They're good, but it's not the same. Sigh... (this is where you give me sympathy)

Hmmm. I’d like to offer sympathy, but I’m gonna horse laugh you instead. Georgia barely got by Nicholls last week. ROFL.

This is a question I ask every author. Tell us why we should read/buy THE SURRENDERED. In haiku format and ONLY haiku format.

Wow, really? But The Surrendered already uses up four of my seventeen syllables. Ok, here goes…

Plots of yesterday

Make way for The Surrendered

It’s the bomb AF

Boo-yah J You’re a trip, Ryan. Have seriously enjoyed this. Thanks so much for taking the time to participate in my blog tour. And, dude, you said you haven’t read The Surrendered. What are you waiting for?

Ryan note: I'm waiting for time to slow down, so I can have more of it :)

 

 

ASK A DEMON! by Ryan Hill

 

 

What is it they say? Ask and ye shall receive? "They" always forget the second part of that: Ask and ye shall receive... for a price.

The cost varies, depending on what's being asked. Sometimes, it's slapping your old, angry biology teacher in the face during class. One poor soul wanted a position of power within Henry VII's court, so I pulled some strings and made him Groom of the Stool. What does that entail? Glad you asked!

The Groom of the Stool was considered "one of the most trusted" members of a king's court, or to phrase it for modern times, his entourage. Why? Because the Groom of the Stool was closer to the king than anyone, perhaps even the queen. See, the Groom was charged with helping the king successfully navigate certain... bodily functions. 

Also, yes. That guy gave up his soul for the position. Kind of a crappy trade off, don't you think? Bit of a stinker? I could go on for days.

Audrey the Curious Author asks:

I really want my book to be a bestseller. Like, make me rich beyond my wildest dreams. Should I make a bargain with your boss, aka SATAN, so I can achieve my goals? I’d really appreciate your thoughts on this, the pros and cons of selling my immortal soul.

Thanks!

You're welcome! Though, I haven't given you any advice yet.

Don't make a bargain with Lucifer. He's a dirty old man who will take everything you have, including the pigtails you sported as a five-year-old that swayed to and fro while you skipped down the sidewalk, your mother beaming with love and happiness. You think Lou messes around? Look at the guy!

 
 

On a side note, making a deal with Lucifer robs some poor demon of making commission on your soul. Don't do that. It's selfish.

As for whether you should sell your soul for fame, fortune, success, maybe a bungalow in Maui... OF COURSE YOU SHOULD DO IT! WHO CARES ABOUT A SOUL? IT'S SOME METAPHYSICAL, MYSTICAL THING THAT SUPPOSEDLY LEAVES YOUR PHYSICAL BODY WHEN YOU DIE. WHAT GOOD DOES IT DO? NOBODY KNOWS! YOU WON'T MISS IT!

Souls are dumb. You don't need one.

To play devil's advocate, however...

Christopher Marlowe sold his soul to become a famous playwright. Familiar with him? Famous playwright, murdered before his time? He's remembered these days for writing a play about a guy who sells his soul to the devil

Think about that.

Want your question answered by me? Send them to ryan@ryanhillwrites.com with ASK A DEMON in the subject line. Who knows? You might get lucky and I'll answer your question.

Until next time...

Bartholomew signing off

So my credit card number got stolen by Ryan Hill

Which is awesome. And a great way to start the weekend. Really. Not just saying that.

Someone, I don't know who, but let's call them Asscheeks McGillicutty, tried to charge $140 worth of mess at a Sears in Virginia to my credit card. Fortunately, the card company caught it.

But I still have to go through the hassle of re-entering that info at places where I pay bills, subscribe to things, etc. 

Clearly, if Asscheeks had met me, things would be different. They'd stand in awe of my classically handsome face. They'd laugh at my jokes until they wet themselves. Not much, just a drop or two. Enough to know they needed to get control of themselves.

I imagine Asscheeks has patchy hair on their head, and what is there looks like cobwebs... maybe even has a fly or two stuck in there. They're probably wearing an old, tattered Hulkamania tank-top that was purchased in 1997 at a garage sale. I'm guessing it was found under a pile of moldy towels someone tried to sell for a dollar. I bet Asscheeks, if Asscheeks is a male, has donated blood and whatnot to places all over the country, so... the future has that to look forward to. As for Asscheeks McGillicutty, I hope their future involves an infuriating bout of PokemonGO where all they find are level 12 Rattata that sends them into a rage that lasts so long, they don't notice the steamroller coming at them from a mile away, despite the driver yelling, "Move! I don't want you to get squished!" repeatedly for thirty minutes to no avail. 

Then, as quickly as Asscheeks McGillicutty entered my life, they were gone. Squished. Flattened like a pancake on the road.

Seems like a fair and just fate.