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Tequila Nights
Tequila Nights
Tequila Nights
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Tequila Nights

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About the only things Quetzalcoatl takes seriously are tequila and a good party, demonstrating that not all gods are serious god material. Rather than being ashamed of this, Quetz takes great pride in his reputation as the ultimate party animal. However, at the moment his mind is occupied by more pressing matters; like how he will manage to live through the night.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherTaylor Dunn
Release dateAug 22, 2018
ISBN9780463087770
Tequila Nights
Author

Taylor Dunn

Taylor Dunn is the pen name of an American born author raised in the charming and underrated city of Minneapolis, Minnesota. There, a poor white kid growing up in a poor black world, he learned many of life’s lessons the hard way. Drawing on those experiences has led to the creation of unusual characters with, demented and deranged as they may be, a distinct voice. Escaping the poverty of the North Side, he attended Augsburg College and later Saint Cloud State University where he studied history, with a particular interest in Eastern Europe and Asia, discovering how poor people of other cultures were slowly crushed by structural inequality and oppression. Not that we know anything about that in the United States. Before publishing his first novel Taylor worked as a yard-dog for a company known by its employees as the dog-nut. He moved on to stints as a courier, truck driver, bartender, a teacher of little kids, and later a teacher of bigger little kids. When not being tormented by the scheming intrigues of demons, Taylor enjoys traveling, mountaineering, and the unpredictability of people. He invites readers to email him at taylor.dunn.author@gmail.com. “I don’t care if you are good or bad; just be interesting.” - Taylor Dunn

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    Book preview

    Tequila Nights - Taylor Dunn

    Tequila Nights

    by

    Taylor Dunn

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2018 Taylor Dunn

    Discover other titles by Taylor Dunn:

    Clockwork Angels

    The Devil and Jimmy Biscuits

    The Curse of the Red Room

    http://www.taylordunn.org

    mailto:taylor.dunn.author@gmail.com

    License Notes

    Thank you for downloading this ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to your favorite ebook retailer to discover other works by this author.

    For Dad

    and all the other dreamers.

    It had been an age of the world since voices were heard in those caverns. Not even the American archeologists, with all their amazing technology, could find the resting place of Tlexictli of Teotihuacan. For twelve centuries the tomb remained silent until at last the memory of the greatest king in the history of the America’s had faded. Today, after all these centuries, a new voice breathed life into the ancient catacombs. And it said:

    Oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck!

    Quetzalcoatl was quite alarmed. For over two millennia he had walked the earth without fear for his life – as long as you didn’t count that one time at that one party. Being a nearly immortal god was a great perk, one that Quetzalcoatl often enjoyed past the point of the legal limit. Wrestling alligators in the blackout stage was one thing; today was altogether different. The terror pursuing Quetzalcoatl through the tunnels of Tlexictli’s tomb didn’t much care he was nearly immortal. The monster on his heels was powerful enough to make Quetzalcoatl nearly alive, which still meant dead.

    Why run? it taunted. It only prolongs the inevitable.

    Why? Quetzalcoatl answered the voice in his head. I like my skin where it is.

    Laughter was the creature’s reply. A laughter with edges; the kind that promises pain. Quetzalcoatl, self-proclaimed hedonist and party animal, had a white-hot aversion to pain of any sort, and that made the creatures jeering even more unnerving.

    Honestly, there is nowhere to go. It won’t hurt...much.

    The god didn’t answer, too preoccupied by idiot terror to formulate a response. He had no idea where he was going, only that running away was the important thing.

    Why did I come back? If a thought could moan, Quetzalcoatl’s surely had done so.

    Why indeed? answered the voice. But I do appreciate it. I am so hungry.

    Get out of my head! Quetzalcoatl shouted, waving his arms as if to ward off the voice. Nostalgia. Melancholy. Burning curiosity. These might explain why Quetzalcoatl had returned to his old haunt in Teotihuacan. But he could find was no explanation for the terror stalking him through the catacombs.

    Reaching a junction where several tunnels branched in opposite directions, Quetzalcoatl was at a

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