#OctoberFrights Day Five: Dark Poetry Corner

And now dear readers, we come to the day of poetic reckoning, the day when the raven flies on dark wings and brings verse most disturbing and wicked...

Welcome to my Dark Poetry Corner

The Red Queens

Rivers flow in crimson streams

with blood a thousand-fold

and tears of the blackened damned

Seared demon mists

roil from the wormy earth

blown on brimstone winds

Can you hear them call?

Can you hear them laugh?

The Red Queens walk tonight

Spirits claw from beneath their graves,

born again with baneful verve

from cracking bones and rancid flesh

And while they howl their spite

toward this forlorn night,

they scurry to heed the summons

Can you hear them call?

Can you hear them shriek?

The Red Queens walk tonight

The Red Queens stalk the night

~*~

Fifty Fathoms Deep

Stygian squelch and salty brine

where the carrion fall to slumber

Inky black and a wet drowned hell

with the monsters coloured umber

It’s where I live

Fifty fathoms deep

The raven grave and eternal abyss

for ships that sunk from battle

flesh picked clean and washed away

Nothing left but a dead bone rattle

It’s where I live

Fifty fathoms deep

It’s submerged tears of last regrets

in the face of your abandoned faith

Whispers and screams come empty

in the home of the devil’s wraith

It’s where I died,

and rose again

Fifty fathoms deep

~*~

Shadow’s Breath

One breath

quantum shadow of your life

One breath

held shallow inside the night

One breath

clutching back your last scream

One breath

scratching against your neck

One breath is all you have left

~*~

Hellfire Moon

Upon the dead man’s hour

cradled by the graveyard wind,

sulphurous and dank,

the Hellfire Moon unfurls

Crimson glare, cast down

over shrivelled trees

dripping charcoal ichor,

as blasphemous tongues

spew virgin blood and lies

Along the shadow’s path

creep the legged beasts

their barbs so sharp and ready

The Hellfire Moon commands

their minds, their thoughts

they will bring you to your doom

~*~

And we also have a giveaway!

The October Frights Giveaway

For more October Frights Blog Hop

Interview With JK Allen, Author of Angelborn

Today I have an interview with author JK Allen who talks about writing and her debut release, the YA urban fantasy, Angelborn. Enjoy.

Interview With JK Allen

Why don’t you begin by sharing a little about yourself.

I graduated in 2010, with a degree in Creative Writing and English and decided to get really serious about my writing. It was a dream of mine to get published, and I was determined to work until I did. So I’m pleased as punched that not only do I have several works in anthologies, but that my debut novel, Angelborn, comes out September 27th!

Could you tell us a bit about your latest book?

Angelborn is a YA urban fantasy that features Ginny Gracehurst, a teen who thinks she’s just a normal girl until she gets a demon mark and is thrown into a world she never knew existed. Turns out she’s half angel and the object of a powerful half demon’s evil plans. She must work to stay out of his hands while keeping her loved ones safe.

How long have you been writing, and how many books have you published to date?

I wrote my first story the day after I learned how to write and never stopped. I have three stories and four poems in anthologies with another short story releasing in November. Angelborn is my debut novel.

When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

I’ve always been writing, but I didn’t realize I wanted to be a writer until I was deciding my major for college. I knew I liked English, but I never even knew it was possible to major in Creative Writing. My advisor mentioned it offhand and it was like a bell went off for me. It was exactly what I wanted to learn and do, and I dove right in.

What is your greatest challenge as a writer?

This is odd for me, but editing my own work has been a challenge for me. I work for a publishing company and actually do a lot of editing for them, and I love editing for others! But when it comes to my own works, I do struggle to get motivated, even though I really believe good writing is rewriting.

Do you have a favourite author, or writing inspiration?

I love a wide array of authors. I feel like there’s so much to learn from so many different writers and writing styles. I love stories with great characters I can relate to.

What advice would you give beginning writers?

Write first, edit later. I think it’s so important to distinguish between the two. It takes two completely different ways of thinking to do each, and you can really stifle your creativity by thinking too critically too soon. Get the draft out, you have time to perfect it later.

What do you like to do when you're not writing? Any hobbies?

I love being fueled by creativity, so I like drawing and painting in my free time. Also, reading is a passion of mine. And sometimes I crochet. Basically I like creating things or getting lost in imagination, mine or my favorite authors.

Are you working on another book?

I am in the middle of getting the sequel to Angelborn, Heavenfire, ready for publication in April. And I’m getting geared up to start writing the third book in the series. I’m a plotter, so I had to get my scene list and research in order first.

Angelborn by JK Allen

High school is all about boy meets girl, girl gets demon mark, and girl finds out she’s half-angel. At least that’s how it is for Ginny Gracehurst.

Sixteen year olds have a lot going on in their lives, and Ginny is no exception. Grades, homework, pimples, oh and now the sudden appearance of a demon mark. And discovering her father, who she thought was dead, is actually the great angel Grace. Who is very much alive.

With unforeseen powers growing, she has to figure out who she really is. While also staying out of the reach of a powerful half demon who is hell-bent on bending her to his will. The Alliance, an organization that is supposed to help people like her, is threatened by her potential gifts. They are more invested in their own hierarchy than in upholding their divine mandate. It’s up to her and a new friend, Aiden, to protect not just herself, but the ones she loves.

Angelborn is available on Amazon for a September 27th release.

The blog tour for Angelborn is running from Sept 14th to Oct 5th.

About the Author:

JK Allen received her BA in Creative Writing and English from Michigan State University. She wrote her first story when she first learned how to write and hasn’t looked back since. Common writing themes that can be found in her work address identity, everyday magic, and the type of strength that can be found in ordinary people. Three of her short stories and several poems are featured in anthologies, and Angelborn is her debut novel coming out September 2018. She is currently working on the trilogy as well as several shorts, while researching for a new series in the works. Her reading tastes are as varied as the genres she enjoys writing, from Jane Austen to J.K. Rowling. When she’s not writing, you can find her painting, drawing, or lost in another world between the pages of a book. Or on Facebook. She write YA urban fantasy mostly, but also dabbles in other genres like horror and poetry. You can find her at Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Or on her Blog.

The Bloody Valentine Horror Event: Wedding Day

It's that time of year again, the time to embrace the bad side of love: the rejected lovers, the spurned spouses, and the generally lovelorn. It is a celebration of everything anti-valentine and down with romance. It's time for...

The Bloody Valentine Horror Event!

This is my annual Facebook/Blog Event for everything anti-valentine. This is an open posting extravaganza so anyone can join in on the macabre fun. And today's blog portion is a horror tale of the wedding from Hell...

Wedding Day

Noah remembered the nightmare. The stone room. The monstrous creatures.

The pain.

He remembered screaming.

And now... the soft comfort of his bed.

I’m awake. I’m awake. It’s over.

He lay in his bed, his heart racing, and stared at his bedroom ceiling. He counted the grooves in the cornices and the decorative plaster roses until his breathing eased and the fright subsided. Then he turned his head, and glanced at the window; slivers of the morning sun crept past the half-open drapes. His new wedding attire hung carefully on a rack beside the casement. Ready. Waiting.

I’m getting married today.

He smiled. Becky.

He sat upright, and then climbed out of bed. As his feet touched the ornate rug, pain stabbed into his back and he tumbled to the floor. Agony sliced through his body and he shrieked, his eyes shutting tight. His body spasmed, and then curled into a ball. He felt a cold hand stroking his cheek, and Becky’s voice whispered, “Don’t fight it. Let the pain take you. Let go...”

The words chased him into oblivion.

Noah heard voices.

“Get him up. It’s time.”

“He’s ready?”

“He’s been prepared. Anymore and he might die.”

“You’re right. These humans are so fragile.”

Humans? Who’s talking? What’s happening to me?

Noah didn’t want to open his eyes, but he did.

Fangs, horns and red eyes stared at him. Clawed hands held his limp body upright. His noticed his shirt was missing, and his skin... what he could see of his body was covered in arcane tattoos.

What have they done to me!  

Noah screamed. He thrashed in the strong grip of his captors.

“Hold him still! Pin his arms! We need to deliver him on time!”

Noah fought, but he had no strength. He could not prevent them from dragging him from his cell.

“Please let me wake up,” he mumbled as unconscious darkness claimed him.

Noah heard music. He opened his eyes.

He stood in front of an altar in his wedding suit. Becky walked down the aisle towards him.

It was just a nightmare. I’m getting married. To my sweet, adoring Becky.

He smiled as his bride stopped in front of him. She lifted her hand and stroked his cheek. He couldn’t stop staring at her.

Noah heard a voice say, “Do you take this female to be your wedded wife?”

“I do.” he replied.

“And do you take this male human to be your wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Noah’s heart raced.

“Then I pronounce you bonded in unholy matrimony! One in blood and in fire for eternity!”

Wait that’s not right. Why would he say that? Noah’s hands trembled, his body shook.

Becky stroked his cheek once more. “Shut your eyes, Noah. And remember.”

Noah dutifully closed his eyes.

Pain shuddered through his body.

Becky’s voice commanded, “Open your eyes, Noah!

His eyelids snapped open. The church, the music, the beautiful wedding, disappeared. Replaced by him tied spread-eagled to iron spikes, encircled by fire and monsters.

But Becky, his beautiful Becky, still stood in front of him.

Still dressed in her wedding... the light shifted, her face changed. Became— Noah gasped.

No, no! That’s not Becky! Red skin, horns, fangs... That thing can’t be... but it has her eyes, her beautiful green eyes.

“You can’t be Becky!”

“Oh, but I am. The very one you fell in love with. And married, only moments ago.” The thing that was Becky stepped closer, and stroked his cheek, her claws scratching his skin. “But it is nice to finally show you my true self.” She smiled, her rows of razor-sharp teeth glistening in the firelight. “Hello, husband. Time to kiss the bride.” Noah nearly gagged as she kissed him, her forked tongue flicking down his throat. As she withdrew, the same tongue licked across his lips. Noah shuddered. “No, no, it can’t be.” The whisper resonated in the air, like a mocking chuckle. “We were—this isn’t—the church—our wedding...”

“Sorry, love. All illusions conjured by your mind. You’ve been here for months, my dear."

“Here?”

“Hell, of course. Since the day you asked me to marry you. Or rather asked that human skin I fabricated.” She traced a claw over his tattooed skin. “It takes time to make a human ready.”

“Ready?” Noah’s voice trembled. “Ready for what?”

“To wed a demon.” She smiled, her tongue licking his neck, her claws scraping across his chest. “These symbols bind you to me, bind you to Hell.” She pressed her face next to his; he felt her hot breath wash over his skin. “You are mine, Noah. Our little ritual will bring me great power, and you great pain. Welcome to married life, my love. Welcome to unholy wedded bliss!”
Noah felt something sharp stab into his abdomen, his agony ripping a shriek from his throat. He glanced down to see his wife's claws piercing his body.
"Does that hurt, husband? Too bad, for what wedding would be complete without a feast? Shall we start with your spleen?" She sliced open his stomach and extracted his organ. She took a bite and ate it slowly while he watched. "Very tasty. Perhaps the liver next?"
"Please, please, no!" He moaned, pleading for mercy.
"Shh, shh, Noah." She stroked his cheek and he shied at her touch. "Don't worry, my love. Nothing I do here will kill you. That's what the binding is for. I will eat your insides piece by piece and fill your hollow shell with Hellfire. Then you will be one of us. Won't that be fun?" With a smile, she reached back inside of his abdomen. "Yes, I definitely think the liver, next."

Noah’s unending scream echoed on the trail of her laughter.

© A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights Reserved 

And for more fun check out Facebook:

The Bloody Valentine Horror Event 

Drabble Wednesday: Empty Streets

Today on Drabble Wednesday, the darkness closes in and the wind sweeps down desolate paths...

Come Due

Midnight whispers names down the deserted lanes, and softly knocks at the barred doors and shuttered windows. It conspires with the night wind and the moon to shiver along cracks and the sheen of surfaces, to squirm its way past barriers.

While those of flesh and bone huddle in fear behind thin walls and glass.

They mutter useless prayers into the darkness, a vain attempt to ward the poor wretched souls on Midnight’s tongue. They know by morning dawn, Midnight will claim those it names.

For bargains made in the witching hour must be honoured and tribute must be paid.

~*~

Echo on the Cobblestones

Black velvet sky, a celestial awning of space and stars, yawns above the quiet streets of a small, sleepy town. An ordinary town, nine to five, good citizens abed in these darkened hours. Yet, there are no stragglers, no ill-intent prowlers, no night owls haunting the alleys or roadways. All is still as a dead man’s breath, and cold as a frozen tomb.

Save for an echoing sound most peculiar.

Every evening it can be heard, a curious tap, tap, tapping. Like the beat of footsteps on long forgotten cobblestones, of someone strolling down an avenue lost to the ages...

~*~

The Road Taken

There’s a winding road I know, very near, but far away. The old folk tell you don’t travel down Tarkington Road, bad things happen in the wisps of fog and the twilight rain. That you won’t come home again if you meet the Man in Black.

It’s a bit ramshackle, this thoroughfare. Once a mining road, or maybe a logging trail; no one’s sure anymore. The air feels heavy, the light plays tricks on your eyes. Things shift in the mist, and noises—not quite screams—echo from down the way.

And of course, there’s me.

The Man in Black.

© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved

Drabble Wednesday: Changelings

Today on Drabble Wednesday come read of oddities, things out of place, and not quite right…

The Tree of Life

The emerald leaves of the deciduous tree fluttered in the breeze wafting off the lake. It appeared fresh and vibrant as the first day of spring, though all around bare branched fauna shed their leaves, shadowing the ground in a red and orange shroud.

A strange site to behold indeed, yet the tree existed, lush and green throughout winter and spring and all seasons in-between. Perpetual mist caressed it bark, fed from the lake or perhaps something more unearthly. And its branches were ripe with crimson fruit, sweet and waiting to be eaten.

The perfect temptation for all unwary fools.

~*~

Emissary

The tiny creature in the crib breathed the sweetest rhythm, a soft inhale to exhale. Its chest rose and fell in time with its heart, life expelled and renewed. Pale rose pinked its cheeks, lending a cherub look, enhanced by a perfection nose and chin. Velvet fuzz of chestnut hue and curls adorned its small head.

The loving family doted on the new addition, marvelling at its disposition, for it rarely cried or fussed. They showed it off proudly and all visitors cooed, declaring it the loveliest baby ever.

And it was, save for one small thing.

It wasn’t human.

~*~

Pages

Voices leaked from between the bindings, and the smell of ancient ink and old leather. Garbled whispers wafted from the paper and hide, and sometimes screams. Its gilt—along the spine and leaf edge—glowed in unearthly tones, shifting with the tide of the air. The manuscript stood an enigma, a macabre mystery upon the dusty shelves of the library archives. It nestled in a nook, flanked by unused tomes and folios, avoided by all.

Yes, no one ever touched the book.

For the last sorry soul to lay hands on it died a madman, babbling of demons and devils.

© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved

#CoffinHop Day 7: An Interview with Balthazar

A strange indulgence today Coffin Hoppers, as this odd transcript of an interview came into my possession, and I felt I had to share…

“Welcome everyone, to another Fireside Chat. I’m Richard Dale, your host. Today, the demon Balthazar (from the Killers and Demons series) has stopped by and kindly consented to talk with—”

“I have not consented to anything. I was ordered here by… never you mind who. I rather be anywhere else. Even watching one of those insufferable reality TV shows would be preferable to this torture.”

Unnerved, Mr. Dale fidgets. “Very well, then. I’ll try to make this as quick as possible—”

“Please do.”

Richard Dale frowns, but continues. “First, tell our audience a bit about yourself.”

“Why would I do that?”

“If you don’t answer, it will just prolong this interview.”

Balthazar sighs. “Oh, very well. If I must participate in this inane ritual, I must. I’m a demon, and a bounty hunter for Hell. I track down escaped souls and send the worthless wretches back where they belong. Satisfied?”

With a smirk, he replies, “Very. Now do you have any hobbies?”

“Killing, maiming, disembowelment, incinerating humans with Hellfire.”

A rather frightened look passes over Mr Dale’s face. “Um, very cheery pastimes. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?”

“Interviews.”

He swallows, turning slightly pale. “Which living person do you most despise?”

“Must I pick just one? I quite despise your whole race.”

Mr Dale weakly laughs. “Well, you must be fun at parties. Next question:  What do you consider the most overrated virtue?”

“Mercy.”

“Of course.” Richard Dale loosens his tie, smiles briefly and continues. “What is your idea of perfect happiness”?

“What kind of a question is that? Happiness is for weak humans… ” Balthazar pauses, and an unsettling smile crosses his lips. “Although, I rather miss my days as a pirate, during the early 18^th century. Such good times back then. The smell of salty sea air mixed with blood, the cannon fire, the killing, and generally wreaking of havoc. Yes, such good times.”

Mr Dale pushes his chair backwards, away from his guest. “What is it that you most dislike?”

“Humans.”

A tiny gasp escapes Richard Dale’s lips, and his hands tighten around the arms of the chair where he is seated. “What one word best describes you?”

Balthazar snorts. “Where do you come up with this drivel? Who goes around describing themselves? But to answer the question, I’d use the word ruthless.” He smiles again.

Trembling, Mr Dale squeaks out a final query. “Last question. What is your first memory?

“Wonderful, it’s over.” Balthazar reaches down and pick up his hat. “My first memory is snapping the neck of a lesser demon and eating its bones. I was two years old by demon standards and my father was so proud. May I leave now?”

“Yes please do. I think I need a drink, anyway.”

“I recommend the whiskey. I had some before you arrived. Goodbye. I hope we never meet again.” In a cloud of smoke and the stench of brimstone Balthazar disappeared.

Richard Dale fainted.

I hope you enjoyed this adventure, and don’t forget to keep hopping for more fun. You can find the list of participants at  http://coffinhop.com/

And here’s my contest.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Welcome to Legion: A Kickstarter Campaign

Today I bring you something a little different, a spotlight on a Kickstarter campaign for the horror novel, Welcome to Legion. First, I'll showcase the campaign itself and some concept art, then a blurb about the novel. Enjoy. 

Horror writer launches Kickstarter campaign to fund self-publication of supernatural horror novel

Clinton Herigstad, author of Welcome to Legion is launching his first novel with the help of Kickstarter.com. For the month of October, pledges are being accepted to help fund the self-publication of the physical, electronic, and audio versions of his supernatural horror novel. Funding is also being used toward the marketing and promotion of his first literary work.

Clinton Herigstad has also created a short film for his book with the help of local Traverse City photographer Tyler Franz. The film has been edited into a book trailer for the purposes of the Kickstarter campaign and general promotion. The trailer includes a monologue talking about the project, concept art created by various artists, and music by local beat maker Dman.

The footage was recorded in a ghost town near Glen Arbor Michigan. The abandoned house used in the film had a dirt floor cellar that is accessible through a trap door in the bathroom… creepy. 

The novel cover is being commissioned by artist Mathew Phillip Hansen.

In addition to pre-ordering a copy of the novel, Clinton Herigstad has included a limited option to be inserted into the book as a character. Certain characters in the book whose names aren't pivotal to the books integrity will have their names replaced by all backers who pledge at that reward tier. There is also an option to have a short story added to the back pages of special one of a kind, hard cover copies of the book. These stories will be created after the campaigns success, by interviewing the backer about their worst nightmares or fears. The end result will be a signed hard cover copy of Welcome to Legion with a tailor made short story ranging between 5 and 10 thousand words or more. At the highest pledge tier up to two backers can fund a book signing in their home town. Clinton Herigstad has agreed to fly or drive to the location of the backer’s choice to do a book signing at the best location possible.

“I have been a fan of horror from a young age. Around the age of 9 I watched Pet Semetery and was horrified. That feeling was what drove me to ponder all sorts of things in the realm of the macabre. I have developed my sense of horror writing with inspiration from the scholarly works of the usual suspects, Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, E.A. Poe, William Peter Blatty, and others. My love of the cinema has also deeply influenced my writing and inspired me in the creation of my trailer.” – Clinton Herigstad

There are several more projects that Clinton Herigstad plans on creating in the near future including short stories, novels and other entrepreneurial ventures. 

Check out the Kickstarter video and make a pledge at  https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/2039292891/welcome-to-legion-a-supernatural-horror-fiction-no  

Also like the books at the Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/welcometolegion

~*~

Welcome to Legion

Leo Alfassi, an earnest, hardworking guy just trying to do the best he can for his small family was suddenly offered a better job in a different state, in a new town…the town of Legion.
Leo doesn't realize the chain of events leading to this exodus have been entirely orchestrated by an unseen force; a vile, putrid force. She is an old evil from ancient times when the world was new, at the very dawning of mankind. This hatred was born in the fury of a woman scorned, with seething vengeance, the kind of which no word has ever been written to describe.
If you are brave of spirit, follow Leo as he begins his new life in the Town of Legion with his pregnant wife and small daughter. Welcome to Legion, a small town surrounded by the beauty of the Pacific Northwest. Welcome to Legion, where time seems to have stopped, where no children play in the streets, where history is secret and shrouded…where no one from outside Legion seems to notice for some reason.
Welcome to Legion, where the sinister, unspeakable truth of why Leo and his family have been brought here will soon become painfully evident. Meet the unholy terror that is behind it all…read on daring soul, though your mind’s eye may be painted with images that cannot be washed away for some time. Welcome…Welcome to Legion.