Archive for November 17th, 2016


Safety Nation Chapter 5

I’m glad I finally got to show you all the fantastic cover art for my upcoming novel. I’ve ordered proofs from the printers, and they are in the mail. Once they show up, I’ll sign off on them as long as they look good. Let’s hope so!

In case you have missed the chapters so far, here are links to them:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4


Cover Art

Chapter 5 is one of my favorites. It was the first one where I felt like I was really onto something with the story. I hope you enjoy it!

As always, the chapter below, and entire novel, are copyrighted.

— — —

Safety Nation by Logan Riley


I listed out of the bedroom, bleary-eyed. My head felt like the receiving end of an anvil. An awful racket came from the living room. It was much louder than the usual noise.

A dog rounded the corner separating the living room from the kitchen. It was squat and pudgy with a flat, wrinkled black face. Its body was tan colored. Its tail was curled twice over, and its eyes looked like they were about to pop out of its skull.

It raced toward me at full speed, its butt nearly dragging across the floor. An incredibly long pink tongue flapped from one side of its giant mouth. As the dog neared, it didn’t slow down. It careened into my shins with a thud.

The dog jumped at my face, going almost three feet straight up. It tried and failed a second time. Springs must have been attached to its feet. Then it decided something more fun awaited elsewhere. It skittered around me a final time, and ran full speed back to the kitchen.

My troll-wife was sitting in her usual spot. “When did you get a dog?” I asked.

“Oh . . . they delivered it half an hour ago.”

“What is it?”

“Oh . . . a dog.”

“I know it’s a dog. What kind of dog?”

There was no response. She was entranced by the pulsing light of the TV.

I went into the kitchen. Water and dog food were strewn about the floor. Several stuffed dog toys had been dissected, their cotton innards tossed about. In the center of the floor was a coiled up turd. The dog sniffed it, growled, and barked.

“You’re barking at your own shit,” I said.

The dog looked at me with a vacuous smile. For a moment it resembled Huxley. Then, the dog shot off, racing back to the living room.

“You want to help me clean up this mess?” I called to my troll-wife.

No response. It was just as well. She would only make it worse. I was the only one that did anything around here. Cleaning, cooking, laundry, maintenance, I did it all. She was a worthless slug.

Continue reading ‘Safety Nation Chapter 5’

November 2016


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