The Long Arm W Ranch

 

 

About The Author: Otrova Gomas

A picture of Otrova Gomas

Otrova Gomas utilizes the style and techniques of Cervantes that have lain dormant for centuries. He uses picaresque humor and surprise as he weaves his incredible tales. The Best of Otrova Gomas is a delightful blend of Mark Twain and The Twilight Zone with a dash of Graucho Marx sprinkled in for flavor. 

 

Otrova Gomas is a master at describing the thought processes of his unique characters and is as much a book for Psychology class discussions as it is for readers who enjoy good short stories.

 

The Spanish edition, ISBN: 978-980-271-396-7, was printed by Editorial Planeta Venezolana, S.A. The English edition is copyrighted under the title The Scorpion's Honey by Otrova Gomas.

 

 

"The Scorpion's Honey: Alter Egos"

"The Scorpion's Honey: Alter Egos"

You can order your copy of "The Scorpion's Honey: Alter Egos" today on amazon.com for $14.95.

 

The Scorpion's Honey with added portions of Confessions, Inventions and Evil Intentions by Otrova Gomas has been translated into English. His track record in South America has been impeccable. El Hombre más Malo del Mundo is in its 14th edition. El Cofre is in its 12th edition. El Caso de la Araña de Cinco Patas sold 20,000 copies in two years. La Miel del Alacrán has enjoyed the most literary acclaim. Its 2nd Spanish edition was published this year, 2010.


 

Listen to "The Scorpion's Honey

I am enclosing a sample story. Please contact us if you're interested in seeing more of our work on this project or you can listen to some of the stories for yourself.

 

 

Sweet Venom

By: Otrova Gomas

 

Sweet Venom Cover Image

I have a pet scorpion. He is long and black as the night. Two sharp, pointed pincers adorn his forehead and his trembling tail is perpetually arched and raised, oscillating, poised, and ready to furnish that sting that no one understands. I have had him for a number of years now. My sacred pet would be a proper designation for him. Even though I testify that he is completely inoffensive, his enormous size and well-fed body alarm all who come into his presence and fills them with panic. My wife left me because of him.  I lost contact and dealings with most of my friends since they don't dare come near him. The bottom line is that I cannot abandon him. I have raised him since he was born. I have hand-fed him. To be in my presence is the reason he exists. I remember so clearly separating him from his brothers and sisters as they devoured their mother (this is a ritual that all scorpions honor and observe faithfully). He was the blackest, most aggressive, and hungriest of all of that crustacean litter. He had already devoured the eyes and entrails of his dear mother who had just given birth to her offspring when I grabbed him by his little tentacles. He was livid as his fury raged, and he tried his best to plant his caudal sting into my tender flesh. Lucky for me he was still too young and too weak to do any damage back then.

 

I wasn't at all afraid of him and even laughed at his frustration and fury for not being able to finish the macabre dinner that he had been enjoying so much.  Little by little I started soothing him and calming him down until he became fully tranquilized. I kept him safely protected in a glass box where I could feed him a feast of spiders, ant lion larva, butterflies, leaf-cutter ants, and different kinds of leaves that I have learned that he enjoys.  When I fed him I never failed to massage his back gently even though he always tried his best to strike out in anger and sting me. I learned how to avoid his attacks by observing very carefully the slightest movements of his tail. I used my god-given agility to keep clear of that unfriendly, uncalled for, lunge that I never could understand. I call my scorpion Albert after my foster father. It has helped forget and cover up years of unpleasant memories that I have guarded in secrecy since my infancy. In spite of all that, I am confident that I have truly won his affection. I am neither a naturalist nor a dictator. My desire to domesticate and tame this soulless creature is driven by nothing more than an inexplicable whim. I can see why you might criticize my judgment, but for me it has become a driving force that dictates all of my life's decisions.

 

After I had him for two years, he was already as big as a spoiled, overweight house cat. When I get home from work, he is eagerly waiting, standing on his six feet in his glass cage wanting me to massage him all over. He and I have a reciprocal, sincere respect for each other. I love him and he looks up to me. Seeing how playful he is, months ago I started taking him out of his improvised cage for hours at a time.  He would run around the house playing with my children who practically adore him. On the other hand, this bothered my wife greatly, especially when he strolled by the baby's crib. My wife would tremble and spew with hate at Albert in fear that something might happen to our little one. She chased him around, spraying insecticide on him and in frustration tried to stomp on him a number of times. She finally couldn't take it anymore and left us. Albert knew how repugnant and repulsive he was to her. In his scorpion mentality, he remembered that mothers give their lives for their children. He knew that mothers protect their own. For that reason he truly pardoned her. I remember the night that she took the kids and left.

 

He stood at the window and watched her drive away as he bid her farewell with a parting movement of his tail. I am positive that he never felt any bad feelings about her. When things are going bad in my life, I go to him as my personal counselor. I lie down on the couch, grab him by his waist, and lift him on to my chest and pour my heart out to him. He comforts me and moves up to my mouth and gently caresses my lips with his tentacles and claws. Just being with him makes me forget all my troubles and woes and gives me a feeling of unsurpassable relaxation. If this little guy should die, I wouldn't be able to stand it. Even though I know him so well, I have been notably impressed by one thing that makes me wonder. When his stinger makes its lightening strikes, instead of venom, I enjoy his marvelous honey. It is a tender honey that can only be made by a scorpion like Albert.