The next three books to be featured from the 2015 NBAS are:
Arachnophile by Betty Rocksteady (Buy It Now!)
My neighbor dangled in front of me, her limbs working restlessly against a strand of web. Her legs arched and trembled as her eyes acknowledged me. I could see recognition in them, and she wavered in greeting. I nodded, my forehead breaking out in a sweat.
A drop of venom shone on her fang, glinting in the light. She swung into the elevator, her large body arcing gracefully through the air. The limited space crowded us together, and she brushed against me, sending a shiver down my spine. There was a moment where I thought I would run, but the door closed.
We were alone. Her head inclined slightly toward me, the silence heavy in the air.
“Erm.. I hope… I do hope you’re settling in okay.” I croaked. Her eyes shone. She remained silent, but my words seemed to lull her and she turned away from me, allowing my eyes to take her all in.
I had never been so close to one before. The soft curves of her body were beautiful and grotesque, the smooth gleaming shell of her abdomen. The patterns of shapes and colors she displayed were fascinating. She glanced over her shoulder at me, as if she knew I was watching, and something about the way her eyes shone set off a reaction in me, heat filling my cheeks.
The elevator sank down dozens of floors and we stood there together for a silent eternity. I could feel how conscious she was of my presence. I couldn’t stop thinking of the effect she had on me the other night. A faint tinge of that same sweet musky smell permeated the elevator, bringing the memory into sharp focus, how hard I had been. How hard I was becoming now.
Without looking at me, one of her back legs extended towards me. Slowly. Casually. A gentle caress against my calf, rubbing it along the side of my ankle. She paused for a moment at my sharp intake of breath, but pushed just a little further and I felt the brush of her flesh- sharp, angular, inhuman, against the sensitive inside of my ankle. I longed to stroke her smooth exoskeleton, but my hands felt clumsy, sweaty, numb.
The elevator stopped suddenly. We had arrived. She walked gracefully out, her eyes glinting back at me. I stood in the empty elevator, face red, and watched her abdomen sway as she walked away.
What was I becoming?
Rock ‘n’ Roll Head Case by Lee Widener (Buy It Now!)
At the Nuclear Burger Chaino draped the towel over the head and strode through the front door. That felt good. He hated going around back to the employee’s entrance. The manager spotted him immediately.
“Durante, what the hell’s the matter with you? You’re late,” he said.
“I ain’t late, I’m right on time,” Chaino replied.
“Look at the clock, moron. You’re ten minutes late.”
“No I ain’t. I don’t work here no more.”
“What the? Are you quitting, Durante? You need to give two weeks notice.”
“I’m quitting right now and I’m robbing this place.”
The manager laughed.
“Robbing us? You and what army, loser?”
“This army,” Chaino said, pulling the towel from Alice Cooper’s head.
“What the hell is that, a Halloween mask?”
The young lady behind the cash register gasped. “Ew, gross!” she said.
“Durante, put that thing down, get into your uniform and get in back. Now.” the manager said.
“I tell you, I’m robbing this place!” Chaino shouted.
“Pull the trigger, kid,” Alice Cooper said.
Chaino pointed Alice Cooper at the manager and pulled the trigger. Cooper opened his mouth and a giant spider web shot out, wrapping itself around the manager.
“What the hell?” the manager squeaked, trying to pull the web off.
“Empty the registers and give me all the money,” Chaino said, pointing the head at the cashier.
“Sure, Chaino. Whatever you say,” she said, dumping the money into the largest take-out bag they had and handing it over.
“I never liked you either,” Chaino said, pulling the trigger again, wrapping a web around the cashier.
The girl screamed and fell on the floor.
“I’m sorry Chaino! I never meant anything! Just joking, you know. Geez!”
“Point me at that asshole manager again and pull the trigger one more time,” Alice Cooper said.
Chaino pulled the trigger and this time dozens of black spiders came pouring from the head’s mouth, each with a tiny red hourglass on its abdomen.
“What the fuck, Chaino!” the manager screamed as the spiders bit into his flesh, each one injecting its poison.
The manager twitched a few times and then lay motionless.
“Holy cripes, Alice, I didn’t want to kill anybody. I just wanted to rob the place.”
“He was a jerk,” Alice Cooper said. “We’d better get out of here.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Chaino said, glancing back at the manager’s body.
As he hurried through the door he heard the cashier scream so loud he could hear her clear through the glass door. Shit, he just killed a guy. With Alice Cooper’s head.
Slasher Camp for Nerd Dorks by Christoph Paul (Buy It Now!)
He opened his eyes and took one last look at the Finals Orgy. They were now in full-coitus unaware of what Jason saw—a group of nude women and men walking slowly toward them. They were covered in dirt and scars. They kept their eyes on the teenagers like they were prey and their only purpose was to devour them.
Jason was not scared seeing the creepy sight. He let out a big breath and smiled feeling relief at seeing the Fuck Followers.
These nude people who attacked those having sex were scattered all over the nation. They were given the crude nickname because they were neither Final nor Slasher, but they attacked and killed anyone engaging in coitus or anyone who wasn’t a virgin.
When Slasher and Final citizenship went federal, there was an option for people to be in an experimental program to be in neither group but to still help with population control. If you refused to choose you were put to death. 97.8% accepted their new roles of Final or Slasher, 1.2% chose to be put to death, and 1% of old-America chose the experimental population program.
Doctors worked on neurotransmitters, stem cells, linguistic and senses programing believing they could program the group of useless people to attack those engaged in intercourse to stop more pregnancies. Through the experimental retraining program, the 1% of men and women lost their sense of identity and became like dogs able to sniff the act of sex and go and stop it.
The experiment worked a little too well as the “Fuck Followers” as laymen labeled them, went after not just current sex acts but also anyone who was no longer a virgin. The scientists didn’t realize the scent of sex stayed on all human beings. While the Slasher and Final society emerged and stayed strong, the Fuck Followers became the boogeymen that both sides feared.
The only people who didn’t fear them were virgins and Jason sat down against the tree for the first time since he got there, feeling like he could relax.
He couldn’t believe the Finalers didn’t notice how close the Followers were. He felt a little bad for them and maybe even a little jealous. He never cared that much about sex but the thought of Rachel The Slazer made him realize like everyone else he wanted to get laid and also that the Finalers were people and didn’t deserve a Fuck Follower Fatality.
Jason stepped out from behind the tree and called out, “Hey, Finals,” they looked up from bliss, looking embarrassed and angry. “Though I hate you guys, none of us should get killed by Fuck Followers. They are coming for you and you should run.”
The naked Finalers went from anger to concern when they looked away from Jason and saw six Fuck Followers coming from different angels.
“Ooooblow bluckkk,” said a Final girl with an erect penis still in her mouth.
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