RUMSPRINGA! An Amishpunk Yarn

Announcing the third of my three new comics coming out next month:

RUMSPRINGA! is the world’s first entry into the exciting Amishpunk genre! An Amish family feud escalates into a battle of giant-sized, wooden robots!

Written by Eric Adams
Art by Jeremy Treece

Published by Narrier

Available in March 2015.

Rumspringa! An Amishpunk Yarn

GOODBYE, WEATHER – Coming in March 2015

GOODBYE, WEATHER is a cyberpunk slice-of-life following two aging hackers-for-hire on a job to commandeer a space-based advertising platform.

Written by Eric Adams
Art by Jerem Morrow & Eric Adams

Published by Narrier.

Available in March 2015.


New Comic Announcement, PECKING ORDER

PECKING ORDER is a dystopian sitcom following Ritchie, a bioengineered ‘sub-human’ recently awarded equal human rights, but only to become a pet in the suburbs.

Written by Eric Adams, illustrated by Jason Federhenn, colored by Ricardo Michel.

Published by Narrier.

Available in March 2015.


Narrier Is Coming


LACKLUSTER WORLD Comics, Art & Shirts Are On SALE


The #GRAYDAYS sale is live. Everything LACKLUSTER WORLD is on SALE!

I need your logo for my new book!


I am very close to finishing a new one-shot comic book. It’s a sci-fi collaboration between myself and Jerem Morrow. The title is Goodbye, Weather. The story follows a couple of saboteurs-for-hire orbiting the moon in a spacecraft designed for the purposes of projecting company logos and advertisements on the moon’s surface. All of these logos will be displayed on the comic pages as if they are advertisements waiting in queue to be displayed on the surface of the moon. There could be up to 100 shown throughout the book.

The 100 logos part is where I need your help…

Flash Fiction 005

I continue to tongue the inside of the ice cream bowl. It’s been empty for hours, but I cannot let her know that. Again, I say, “Vhy tont oo ghoo doo dah shoppig mah buh yoosheff?” It’s hard to speak while doing this. “What?” she says. And again I go silent for ten minutes. Her siege succeeds. I remove the bowl in surrender. She pounces, “Honey! Will you drive me the mall? I need to buy expensive things with your credit card.” I explain, “Sorry dear, but I cannot. You see, I secretly laced my ice cream with a narcotic that’s sure to kill me if I do not quickly seek the proper medical attention. No, I’m afraid I only have just enough life left to drive myself to the hospital and hope they can relieve me of this horrid ailment.” Later, in the ICU, I eat some ice cream containing the antidote. I lick the bowl clean. “Now can we go?” she says. “Now we can go,” I say.

©2013 Eric Adams

Flash Fiction 004

Lacey had sixteen fingers. “You aren’t even trying,” her mother, sneered. “I am! I swear!” Lacey insisted. As usual, her mother slid onto the bench, her large bottom pushing Lacey aside. She demonstrated the proper way to play, explaining, “No! No! It’s da-da-dum-dum-da-dum…” But, instantaneously, her mother’s fingers were no longer attached to her. Silent, metal lightning had removed them. Another silvery flash bolted across her throat. She thudded onto the floor and shook. Lacey placed the knife on the sheet music rack and reclaimed her seat. She admired the newly decorated keys. Her mother’s fingers laid on top of them like little frankfurters drizzled in catsup. Lacey poised her own fingers above them and gently beared them downward. Thunder followed. Altogether, Lacey had sixteen fingers… Four thumbs too.

©2013 Eric Adams

Flash Fiction 003

“Percussion. You should percussion me in the face,” she signs. I cannot read sign language, but that’s what it looked like. I respond as best I can. “Your mother slept with your uncle. He’s your real father,” I interpretively dance. “I demand entitlement,” she signs. “I lied about being out of ice cream last night because I wanted it for myself after you went to bed,” I charade. No response. Oh, the poor thing must not speak charades. “If you wet the bed again and wake me up at three in the morning, I will end you,” I reveal through elaborate kabuki. “Television has twisted my sense of self worth,” she signs, then says, “Dad, can you help me with my homework?” It’s math. “Of course kiddo. Let’s go.”

©2013 Eric Adams