Kent Wayne's Blog

Hey you,

I would like to put my giant weiner away, wind it around my thigh, tuck it into my sock and ask you some questions. Please help me so I can get back to myhotmom dot com and get motivated to get back to writing.

He’d survived mountains, blood, and broken bodies.

Now he was losing a fight with a shower dial.

The water never got hot enough.
The fruit was overripe.
His thoughts wouldn’t settle.

And then he realized—

he hadn’t checked his weapons.

That disturbed him more than anything on the mountain.

This is how unraveling begins.

He didn’t care if the shower malfunctioned.
He didn’t care if the fridge was nearly empty.

Civilian inconveniences meant nothing.

But forgetting to check his weapons?

That was unacceptable.

Weapons readiness wasn’t habit.

It was identity.

And for the first time in years,
Atriya had missed it.

The battlefield isn’t the only place discipline can slip.

What the Caveman Yearning is happening, all you office-bound clickety-clackers who’re clickety-clacking away at some infernal piece of data-sorting BULLSHIT when the urge to doff all civilized life washes through you and inspires you to purse your lips and start aggressively bobbing to an imaginary set of primal drums—DOO-doo doo-doo-doo DOO-doo doo-doo-doo—then gallop around on all fours, ripping your shirt off while emitting an ear-piercing series of chimp-like cries, before you know it you’re rushing through cubicles and leaping over that piece of shit Jared from Accounts goddamn Payable, now you’re crouching over your boss’s desk like the Blood God intended, pants around your ankles as a thigh-sized shit dilates your anus to the point where its lurid crimson edges pucker and gleam like a leering pair of hellish red lips, sweat breaks out across your brow as the poop-log inches downward toward your stoopid-ass boss’s WORLD’S GREATEST DAD-emblazoned stoopid-ass coffee cup, right before the poop meets coffee you throw your head back and cut loose with a Dragonball Z-worthy cry of soul-roiling fury and unmitigated joy RUAAAAHHHHHHH—

What in the ever-loving FUCK!  If you hate your job, schedule some interviews and start looking for a new one!  Until then, how about you NOT give birth to a big ol’ dumper that doesn’t even fit in your boss’s got damn coffee cup!  Shaking my GOT DAMN head!

Anyways, now that I’ve got your attention, I’d just like to take this opportunity to announce that I need your help!

Get A Door into Evermoor on kindle here: A Door into Evermoor.Paperback here: A Door into Evermoor, paperback.  Get Weapons of Old here: Weapons of Old Paperback here:  Weapons of Old, paperback.  A Quest Into Mystery here:  A Quest Into Mystery on Kindle Get Kor’Thank here:  Kor’Thank:  Barbarian Valley Girl.  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  Vol.4 on Kindle here:  Vol. 4 on Kindle  Echo Omnibus here:  Echo Omnibus  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition  Musings, Volume 1 is available here:  Musings, Volume 1 

Hold on!  I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate!  If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish.  Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens!  In this manner you can support my books, musings, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to!  Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy!  Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts!  [image error][image error] [image error]  #Kindle #KindleUnlimited #writingcommunity #writer #booktok #writerscommunity #writing

Atriya opened the fridge.
Protein shake. Apple. Strawberries.
Routine.

Routine was control.

The shower wouldn’t cooperate.
The temperature refused precision.

Annoying — but manageable.

What wasn’t manageable
was realizing he hadn’t checked his weapons.

That wasn’t forgetfulness.

That was something else.

A soldier can’t afford to drift.

He’d seen organs on stone.

Heard men scream until their throats tore.

Survived training designed to erase weakness.

But when the failed candidate stood in front of him,
waiting for humiliation —

Atriya hesitated.

That frightened him.

So he ran.

He could outrun enemies. Not himself.

Atriya had endured brutality his entire career.

Pain was instruction.

Weakness was corrected.

Failure was punished.

He had enforced that system without question.

Until now.

For the first time, something in him resisted.

And he couldn’t outrun it.

This is where obedience begins to fracture.

While I’m proud of my accomplishments as an award-winning Man Whore, I’m a low-key dude who—just like the rest of you low-key dudes—enjoys making ape-noises and trying to see if I can use the Force by trying to move the baaaarely out-of-reach remote control using a curled-hand gesture and an intense-ass stare.  Yeah, that’s why being on a date with Margot fucking Robbie is such a mind-blowing treat.  Until, that is, her eyes turn dark and she whispers, “Oh no—it’s Heathcliff.”

I turn away from our fancy-shmancy dinner, trying to figure out who she’s talking to.  “The cat?  What do you—oh, I see.  No, that’s Jacob Elordi.  Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights actually had dark skin and—”

“NAY!”  Jacob runs up to me (why the fuck is he dressed like a Victorian douchebro?) and slaps me across the face with a white-gloved hand.  “STAY THY TONGUE, YOU IMPUDENT MUMBLECRUST!”

I dab my lips and spit out blood.  “ ‘Mumblecrust?’  Hey, fuckstick, you’re talking like a medieval guy, not a Victorian dude!  Your lingo is just as off as your goddamn ethnicity—might as well go all the way and rename Heathcliff to some Ivy League, roofie-slinging douchebro name like Tripp, Brody, or Parker!  You’ve totally lost the goddamn—”

He grabs Margot by the waist and pulls her close.  “This fair-lipped vajeen be mine, and let all of low caste and vantage be warned!”  He levels a white-gloved finger right at my face.  “That includes you, Kent of Clan Wayne!”

“Clan WHAT?”  I shake my head in disbelief.  “Bro, you are all over the place with your references and speech.  Let her go, you deluded motherfucker!”

Margot strains and tries to hit him, but to no avail.  “Sorry, Kent!  He got too into his role and lost his damn mind—fucking method actors!”  She grunts and screams.  “Let.  Me.  GO!”

“Soft!”  He reaches into his overcoat and pulls a flintlock out from a shoulder holster.  “Tread lightly, Kent of Clan Wayne!”

God DAMMIT.  As I raise my hands, sweat beads off my furrowed brow.

“Kent…”  Margot clutches at the arm around her throat, pleading with me through her expression and gaze.

Fuck it.  No options left.  So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

The lights explode into fountains of hot-glowing sparks.  An instant later, we’re smothered in darkness. 

“Where are you?  WHERE ARE YOU???”  I can’t see Jacob swinging his pistol, pointing at anything and everything around him, but I can hear it in his voice as he instinctively backs up while holding on to Margot Robbie.

Seconds later, the backup generators kick into gear, flooding the restaurant with a dull red glow.  Simultaneously, my unleashed wiener rises up behind him, like an extra veiny version of Dark Knight Batman.

“Here.”

Jacob yelps and pulls the trigger, but my womb-hammer’s already snaked around his arm, broken his wrist, dislocated his elbow, and crushed his shoulder.  He convulses and screams as it slithers across his entire body, snapping bones and mangling joints, then finally tightening down across his mouth, smothering him in a slab of pulsating shaft.

“Mff!  MFF!” 

As his eyes roll up and he collapses to the ground, Margot repeatedly soccer-kicks him in the crotch of his high-waisted pants.  “Ugh!”  Her features twist in outright disgust.  “He’s packing little to nothing—it’s as smooth as a Ken doll!”  She bends down and strokes my wiener, uncoiling from Jacob’s shattered corpse.  “That’s why I prefer you, Kent Wayne’s wiener.”

My brow wrinkles in confusion.  “Are you talking to me or my penis?”

She stands up and looks me in the eye.  “Does it matter, he-slut?  Let’s get to the shlorpa-shlorp and the slappa-slap!”  She points down at her pelvis with both index fingers, arms flared out, and thrusts her hips forward.  “These lady-holes need some vigorous widening!”

I open my mouth and raise a finger…then swallow my response and follow behind.  You know what they say:  never look a gift-hole in the mouth.  (Or however the fuck that saying goes.)

Kent Wayne wins again!  HEH heh heh!

Now what does that have to do with the changes on my website?  Not a damn thing!  But now that I have your attention, I’d like to take this opportunity to announce that changes are happening!

Get A Door into Evermoor on kindle here: A Door into Evermoor.Paperback here: A Door into Evermoor, paperback.  Get Weapons of Old here: Weapons of Old Paperback here:  Weapons of Old, paperback.  A Quest Into Mystery here:  A Quest Into Mystery on Kindle Get Kor’Thank here:  Kor’Thank:  Barbarian Valley Girl.  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  Vol.4 on Kindle here:  Vol. 4 on Kindle  Echo Omnibus here:  Echo Omnibus  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition  Musings, Volume 1 is available here:  Musings, Volume 1 

Hold on!  I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate!  If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish.  Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens!  In this manner you can support my books, musings, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to!  Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy!  Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts!  [image error][image error] [image error]  #Kindle #KindleUnlimited #writingcommunity #writer #booktok #writerscommunity #writing

He had executed orders without flinching.

Watched the insides of men spill across stone.

Outlasted torture disguised as training.

But standing over a failed candidate…

He couldn’t do it.

Couldn’t degrade him.

That hesitation disturbed him more than blood ever had.

The battlefield was never his weakness.

Atriya had seen men torn open like discarded equipment.

He had endured pain that rewired the nervous system.

He had completed training most soldiers didn’t survive.

None of it shook him.

But when he hesitated —
when he couldn’t bring himself to humiliate a failed candidate —

that’s what unsettled him.

And he didn’t understand why.

Violence never bothered him. This did.