Guest Author Bobby Nash of Bethlehem, Georgia.

He’s back!

The Scribbler has the pleasure of hosting Mr. Nash previously when he shared an excerpt from Alexandra Holzer’s Ghost Gal: The Wild Hunt. If you missed Bobby’s first visit, please follow this LINK. We’re happy to have him return for a 4Q Interview and an excerpt from his latest work.

An award-winning author, Bobby Nash writes novels, comic books, short stories, novellas, graphic novels, and the occasional screenplay for a variety of publishers. Bobby is a member of the International Association of Media Tie-in Writers and International Thriller Writers. On occasion, Bobby appears in movies and TV shows, usually standing behind your favorite actor.


He was named Best Author in the 2013 Pulp Ark Awards. Rick Ruby, a character co-created by Bobby & Sean Taylor also snagged Best New Pulp Character of 2013. Bobby has been nominated for the 2014 New Pulp Awards and Pulp Factory Awards for his work. Bobby's novel, Alexandra Holzer's Ghost Gal: The Wild Hunt won a Paranormal Literary Award in the 2015 Paranormal Awards. The Bobby Nash penned episode of Starship Farragut "Conspiracy of Innocence" won the Silver Award in the 2015 DC Film Festival. Bobby's novel, Snow Drive was nominated for Best Novel in the 2018 Pulp Factory Awards. Bobby's story in The Ruby Files Vol. 2 "Takedown" won the 2018 Pulp Factory Award for Best Short Story.


For more information on Bobby Nash please visit him at www.bobbynash.com, www.ben-books.com, and across social media.

4Q: Many of your stories fit into the horror genre. What draws you to these kind of stories?

BN: I love thrillers. There’s something exciting about feeling that tingle on the back of your neck or that creepy feeling going up your spine while reading a thriller that gets the blood pumping. As a writer, if I can evoke those kind of feelings in my readers without the atmospheric music or mood lighting, I an a happy writer.

4Q: You’ve co-written several novels with Chuck Miller. Tell us about that experience.

BN: Not really. Chuck and I have never co-written anything together. He and I both have a story in The Avenger Double Feature. We did not collaborate on the writing of the book, but we did work together to promote it, did some podcasts together, that sort of thing.

4Q: Please share a childhood anecdote or memory.

BN: For a time, my mom was a stay at home mom. My brother was two years old at the time. I was at school. My dad was at work. Mom went to wash some dishes and looked out the window over the sink and saw a monkey standing on the wooden fence that separated our front yard from our back yard. Suffice to say, this confused her as we did not own a monkey.

Calls to animal control, the police, etc. yielded no results. None of them believed my parents when they called, assuming it was a prank. So, for two weeks in 1982, I had a monkey living in my back yard. To our parent’s frustration, I, and the other local neighborhood kids, played with it, fed it, and generally had a ball knowing we had a monkey.

Eventually, my parents called a local news channel. They did a story on the monkey living in our back yard. Suddenly, animal control and the police took the report seriously and swarmed into the neighborhood like stormtroopers, terrifying the monkey, which led them on a merry chase. The irony is, any of us kids could have walked the monkey right to them, but they chose another way. Sadly, the scare tactics works and the monkey bit someone and was then killed. It wasn’t rabid, thankfully, but we learned after the fact that it had been pregnant, which made it even more tragic. The prevailing theory was that it had been a pet someone had let loose in the wild. That has never been confirmed, but it makes as good of a theory as anything else.

4Q: When we visit your website, there is an invitation to support your writing by visiting Patreon. Tell us about this.

BN: Patreon is a site where patrons of the arts can support their favorite creators with a monthly donation to help them continue creating. The creators offer up specials for their patrons as well. My patrons who pledge $5 or more are enrolled in the ebook of the month club. They get one of my books each month, plus patrons get new books as they release in ebook form. Some months, it’s one book. Others, it’s four or five. I also run a weekly serialized novel as a patreon exclusive. Patrons get a chapter each week. When it’s finished, they will get the ebook also and then it will be put on sale to the general public. They also get sneak peeks at upcoming projects, behind the scenes info, giveaways, and discounts on books. In return, the little bit of money helps me buy books, go to conventions, or maybe pay a bill here or there. I have patron tiers at $1, $3, $5, $10, and $20, or patrons can choose a custom amount. You can learn more about my Patreon page at www.patreon.com/bobbynash

4Q: Anything else you’d like to mention?

BN: I appreciate everyone who has visited me on social media, patreon, at conventions, visited my websites, bought and/or read my books, and left reviews. It is appreciated.

My small press imprint, BEN Books recently got a new website. You can visit the new BEN Books at www.ben-books.com for news and updates. There are several BEN Books releases coming in 2019, including collections of my older stories.

You can learn about all of my upcoming books at www.bobbynash.com and/or sign up for my monthly NASH NEWS email newsletter at www.subscribepage.com/NashNews.

SNOW FALLS EXCERPT

Written by Bobby Nash


(copyright held by author - used with permission) 

Abraham Snow knew he was about to die--

--and the thought of it pissed him off to no end.

Everything had been going according to plan.

Before it all went to hell, everything was moving forward as laid out. The meet was set. All of the details had been checked and rechecked. Every i had been dotted, every t crossed. It had taken him years to get this far inside, but he was finally getting a face to face with Miguel Ortega. The man was a ghost, a legend. Ortega was a phantom that law enforcement operatives all over the world had been chasing for decades. No one had even come close to catching the elusive Miguel Ortega despite the fact that he was rumored to have his hands in everything from the drug trade to arms dealings and human trafficking to murder for hire. There was a good reason for this, however, and Agent Snow was one of a select few people alive that knew the truth.

Miguel Ortega was an alias.

It was a code name frequently used by less than reputable men and women who preferred to remain anonymous while keeping their questionable business dealings close to the vest. This alias provided the Ortega’s of the world with a sense of security. Snow had finally made it past the middlemen and low-level goons inside the organization belonging to the Miguel Ortega he was after.

That’s how Abraham Snow, in his alias as James Shepperd, found himself standing on the blisteringly hot tarmac of a tiny smuggler’s airfield in the middle of a South American jungle in a suit, sans tie, standing next to a beautiful woman named Daniella Cordoza. She was Ortega’s right hand and was as dangerous as she was alluring in her formfitting custom dress. They both stood out of place against the jungle backdrop. Snow didn’t trust her, but he needed Cordoza to get to her employer.

One minute everything was going according to plan.

The next-- well, the next minute was not so good. Time moved as though it was trapped in amber. The man in the white suit was all smiles as they walked to meet one another across the airstrip’s tarmac. Snow was finally getting his face to face. It was the first step in the final chapter of his undercover operation.

“Agent Snow.” the man said once he was within earshot.

It took half a second to realize what he had said. Snow did a double take. Ortega had called him by his real name, Abraham Snow, not the James Shepperd alias he had been working under the past eighteen months. How the hell does he know my name?

“I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else, Mr. Ortega. My name is…” Snow started, but it was no use. He could tell by the man’s demeanor that there would be no fast-talking his way out of this one.

His cover was blown.

Somehow, someway, someone had sold him out. The list of possible rats was small. Only a handful of people knew his true identity and most of them he had known and trusted for years. His mind raced through the possible scenarios-- a leak inside the Pentagon or the CIA, a compromised asset, or a mistake he’d made himself, a slip up that had given him away. Each of these played across his mind in less time than it took to realize how deep in the shit he was at that moment.

He was all alone.

There was no backup close by, no one to swoop in and save the day.

Snow reached for the gun tucked into his belt behind his back.

Ortega moved faster.

Still smiling, he pulled the Glock-30 from a shoulder holster and squeezed the trigger. 

Snow felt the first impact, but it wasn’t until the second that he realized he had been shot. The next thing he knew, he was knocked off his feet, flying backward through the air. Snow dropped to the asphalt, unmoving, blood leaking out of two very large holes in his body. A tingling sensation in his extremities told him that the blood loss was substantial. Despite the humid clime, he felt a chill run through him.

He was dying.

Ortega had only fired three shots. The first clipped Agent Snow’s arm, spinning him around. The second missed completely. The third hit its mark, center mass.

Snow stared up into a brilliant blue sky punctuated with a few fluffy white clouds as blood pooled beneath him. Above him, Ortega and his companion stood and looked down at him. He was smiling, but she wasn’t. That surprised him. Although they had been intimate with one another, neither of them had pretended it was anything more than a physical convenience. For him, she had simply been another asset to get him closer to his target.

Mission accomplished.

He had found Ortega.

Surprisingly, he didn’t finish the job. After a moment, Miguel Ortega shook his head, turned and walked away, out of Snow’s line of sight, presumably back to his plane. Daniella Cordoza stayed a moment longer and he thought he saw sadness in her eyes, although he couldn’t be sure of anything as he lay there gasping for air.

And then she was gone.

He assumed she had a plane to catch.

Snow’s vision grayed around the edges as he struggled to catch his breath. Then, surprisingly, followed the sensation of flight, as if gravity no longer held sway over him. Trees and clouds flashed past his vision at dizzying speeds until gravity re
asserted itself and he crashed back to Earth.

And just like that it was all over.

All that remained was darkness--

--and pain.

© 2019 Bobby Nash and BEN Books

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Thank you Bobby for being our guest once more. Good luck with all your writing.

My pleasure. Thanks for having me.

Bobby