Saturday, October 26, 2013

COFFIN HOP: Food for Thought

Welcome to the 3rd day of COFFIN HOP 2013, 
my crazy closet monsters!

Today, I'm featuring a selection from my One-Night Stand story FOOD FOR THOUGHT, recently released by Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing. By the way, did you know PMMP also just bought my novel THE GREEN KANGAROOS? Yep. That totally happened. :) Anyway, if you'd like to purchase the rest of this story, it'll put you in the running for one of two SIGNED PRINT books, one of which is a LIMITED EDITION.

Just spend $0.99 on a copy of my collection Virtuoso at Masturbation, and More McHughmorous Musings or my short story Food for Thought, and comment with your purchase code to enter! And don't forget to leave any ol' comment to join the giveaway for the COFFIN HOP anthology ebook DEATH BY DRIVE-IN.

...from FOOD FOR THOUGHT by Jessica McHugh...

One day, as I headed home from a double shift, I noticed a kid squatting on the sidewalk, digging a hole in the dirt. It was almost dark and the kid was alone, so I decided to investigate. He was giggling when I approached, but when he noticed me, he stopped and threw his body on top of the hole.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“It’s mine, it’s mine,” he howled. “Go, away! It’s mine. I found it.”

“Found what?”

When I pulled him away from the hole, he dropped his treasure: a handful of gold coins. Naturally, I thought they were plastic, maybe chocolate. Despite the boy’s protests, I snatched one from his hand, marveling at the cold, genuine weight. The boy tried to grab it back, but I refused to let go—not to stop the kid from crying or thrashing, not even to stop him from tumbling backwards into the street. As long as I had that gold in my hand, I didn’t care if some random kid got a few scrapes.

As it turned out, neither did the bumper of the Comcast van that mowed the boy down. The bumper hit the kid’s chest with an audible crack, like snapping celery. The force crumpled him, throwing his face against the hood of the van. The wet, meaty smack was more melon than celery, but after his rind had been broken, the hood still had to contend with the bone beneath. The screech of his skull against the hood could be compared to no discernible food, and after seeing that his nose had been bashed off his face, I wasn’t sure I’d ever eat food again. The van hit its brakes, launching the kid backwards, and when his head cracked against the pavement, the impact drove several of his bottom teeth through his top lip.

I froze in place, my palm sweating beneath the gold. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. It was all I could do to keep breathing, which became more difficult when the boy turned his broken face to me. As he scraped himself off of the pavement, he pointed the only finger that hadn’t been reduced to a swinging tube of broken bone right at me. Although he’d started shambling in my direction, people ran to the spot where he’d landed, as if he were still there. Screaming women gathered around the bloodstain while I broke into a sweating fit so intense, I was afraid I’d pissed my pants. The boy’s jaw slipped down his neck with each bloody stomp until he sat down on the curb like a marionette collapsing into its box.

“How’s that gold working out for you?” he croaked at me.

The voice couldn’t have belonged to the little boy. His jaw hung by a thread of black sinew, incapable of movement, but the voice itself was too deep, too gravelly, and decidedly more menacing.

I tried to say a dozen things before “You don’t look so good,” stuttered out. I think he laughed, but it could’ve been air escaping.

“If you think this is bad, just wait.”

Read the rest of FOOD FOR THOUGHT via the links below.


I have THREE PRIZES up for grabs. One lucky hopper will win an ebook copy of DEATH BY DRIVE-IN at the end of the hop just for commenting. That's all it takes. Just stop in and say hi. Tell me you dig the post. Tell me you hate the post. Tell me your mom held you too much (or not enough) when you were a baby. It doesn't matter. Just comment. I will pick one person at random to receive the ebook.

The next few prizes are a bit trickier. But that's because the prizes are 
AUTOGRAPHED PRINT COPIES of Jessica McHugh books. 

The first is a copy of my dystopian novel 
FROM THE HERALD'S WEARIED EYE. (Click the link for info)

The second is a LIMITED EDITION 1ST PRINTING of my bestselling novel 
I have the only remaining copies of this book, so once they're gone, they're gone. 
And you can win one!

So HOW do you win one? Well, there are two ways. 
You can purchase my short story FOOD FOR THOUGHT for $0.99 and COMMENT with your order number. It should be a Dxx-xxxxxxx-xxxxxxxx number.
You can purchase my collection of ponderings, pictures, and writing prompts, VIRTUOSO AT MASTURBATION, & MORE McHUGHMOROUS MUSINGS, for $0.99 and COMMENT with your order number.

Nab the short story or collection, save those purchase codes, and DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT!!

Don't forget to check out the LINKY LIST.


  1. Power-punch of a line: " As it turned out, neither did the bumper of the Comcast van that mowed the boy down."

  2. You paint a nasty picture with your words. I like that! :-) Oh, and the cover for Food for Thought is without a doubt the ghastliest thing I have ever seen for a book cover. Ever, ever. I'm consumed with the desire to vomit but am unable to look away.

    1. Haha! Thank you!! Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing did an amazing job with that cover. I believe my initial reaction was "I'm going to puke all over my computer screen. I LOVE IT."