The Spotlight
The Author Spotlight for December shines on M.R. Sellars, author of the Rowan Gant Investigation Series, and contributor to the Courting Morpheus anthology.
M.R. Sellars
An active member of the HWA (Horror Writers Association), M. R. Sellars is a relatively unassuming homebody who, in his own words, considers himself just a “guy with a lot of nightmares and a word processing program.” Legend has it he started making up stories to entertain a stuffed bear during his single digit years, then began writing them down sometime around his early teens when the growing catalogue of fiction started causing him to experience migraines. Although he had several short stories and newspaper articles published during his early adult life, it wasn’t until 2000 that his first full-length novel, Harm None: A Rowan Gant Investigation, hit bookstore shelves, officially launching the acclaimed paranormal thriller series.
Sellars says that the biggest adjustment he has had to make with his writing career is coping with the time spent away from his family while traveling on promotional tours. Still, he approaches the necessity of public appearances with the same humorously deadpan and satirical wit that he applies to life in general, stating, “As long as I have an RC Cola and a bag of peanuts, I’m all good, Bubba.”
All of the current novels in Sellars’ continuing Rowan Gant Investigations saga have spent several consecutive weeks on numerous bookstore bestseller lists as well as a consistent showing on the Amazon.com Horror/Occult top 100.
Sellars currently resides in the Midwest with his incomparably amazing wife, equally fantastic daughter, and a pair of felines he describes as, “the fat gray one and the stupid orange one.” At home, when not writing or taking care of the household, he indulges his passions for cooking and hanging out with friends. In order to satisfy his lifelong dream of being a satirical humor columnist for a major metropolitan newspaper, twice each week he removes his glasses, dons blue tights and a red cape, then blogs about the incredibly bizarre world that is his life as a writer, husband, and father. It has been said that his blog articles sometimes blur the line between fiction and reality. To that Sellars responds, “What line?”
M. R. Sellars can be located on the web wherever there is a virtual bar serving virtual single malt Scotch, single barrel bourbon, good Irish whisky, and decent beer. In other words, look for him on the major social networking sites.
His Blog, aptly titled “Brainpan Leakage” can be found at:
The Book Spotlight for December: Courting Morpheus and for this week we excerpt a small portion of You’re Gonna Think I’m Nuts…
Excerpt: You’re Gonna Think I’m Nuts… by M.R. Sellars
“Row? You there?” Ben’s voice came to me again.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m here,” I returned, the question nudging me back somewhere near center, though not completely out of the fog. I forced myself to focus on the call. “Yeah… Okay… I give up… So why am I going to think you’re nuts?”
“‘Cause of what I’m about to ask ya’.”
“And that would be?”
“Is there such a thing as Zombies.”
“Zombies?”
“Yeah, Zombies. I need ta’ know if they’re for real.”
“I think I’ve answered that one for you before,” I told him, concentrating on my reply in order to stay locked on the conversation. “There is compelling evidence that among Haitian Vodoun practitioners…”
“No,” he cut me off. “Not those Zombies. I mean like the real ones.”
“Those are real ones.”
“No, white man, I mean the actual walkin’ dead,” he explained. Being that he was Native American, he would often use that friendly jibe in place of my name. In return, I would call him Chief or Tonto. A throwback from too many episodes of The Lone Ranger for both of us as kids, I guess. The interaction had a tendency to make those around us who were afflicted with acute political correctness syndrome flinch uncontrollably – a fact we both found terribly amusing.
Something in the tone of his voice told me that this time, however, it was just out of habit rather than good-natured ribbing. In my mind’s eye I could almost see him shaking his head as he spoke.
“Well, there is also the practice of Necromancy, but even I’m not sure how much of that I am willing to swallow as fact. I suppose given the right circumstances, that Magick could be used to reanimate the dead. Considering what I’ve seen in my lifetime, I’m not going to rule it out, but at the same time I’ve certainly never seen any evidence of it outside of Hollywood movies.”
“But you’re sayin’ yeah, they’re real?”
“No, that’s not what I said. I’m saying I won’t rule it out, but truth is, it really depends on your definition of what a Zombie is, Ben.”
“Easy. I’m talkin’ about moanin’, flesh eatin’, rotting parts fallin’ off ‘em, gotta shoot ‘em in the head ta’ stop ‘em, Zombies.”
“You mean like the ones from horror movies?”
“‘Zactly. Those kinda Zombies. The real kind.”
“Those are the fictional kind, Ben. The other ones are the real kind.”
“That’s not what I asked ya’.”
“Even so, now that you have those facts at your disposal, don’t you think you pretty much just answered your own question?”
“I’m serious, Row.”
“Okay, then, see if this works. No. To my knowledge such a creature does not exist. Better?”
“You sure?”
I was beginning to get the feeling I couldn’t win no matter what I said. I considered his response for a moment then asked, “Where are you?”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“I mean are you at a bar or something? Have you been drinking?”
“See? I told ya’ you were gonna think I was nuts. And, no, I ain’t drinkin’.”
“I didn’t say you were nuts,” I replied. “It’s just that this is a bit out of the park for you. Actually, it’s a lot out of the park for you specifically. Usually it’s me trying to convince you that something supernatural really does exist. Me Witch, you skeptical cop, remember?”
“Uh-huh. Ya’ think I don’t know how fucked up this sounds?”
“Okay, I’m just checking.”
“So, back to my question… Are ya’ sure they ain’t real?”
The turn this conversation had taken now had my full and undivided attention. Even though the fog was still drifting low about my grey matter, the current subject had cleared a large hole in it, and I was no longer having any serious trouble staying focused.
“You’d better back up a bit. Exactly what is it that’s prompting you to ask me this?”
“Constance,” he replied.
To read more of Rowan & Ben’s adventures in New Bedlam, pre-order your copy of Courting Morpheus today!
