October Frights Day 6: Inktober

For today, the last day of the blog hop I have some visual stories for you.

I've been doing the writer's version of Inktober over on Instagram where you write a 50 word story for each day's prompt. I thought I'd share a few of the graphics I whipped up. Enjoy.

If you'd like to see more of my Inktober writings, check out my Instagram.

 So that ends the last October Frights post for this year. 

Be sure to hop on over and check out the last offerings of the other participants as well. 

Here's the list.

October Frights Blog Hop

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

The Word Whisperer

Hawk's Happenings

Carmilla Voiez Blog

M'habla's!

CURIOSITIES

Frighten Me

Winnie Jean Howard

Always Another Chapter

Balancing Act

James P. McDonald

greydogtales

Looking for some new books? It's the last day to check out our October Frights Spooktacular

October Frights Day 4: Dark Drabbles

Today's offering is small but spooky, with three drabbles...

Knock, Knock 

The grandfather clock in the hall ticked in unison with Sally’s fingers as she drummed her digits against the stone fireplace. She barely breathed, her only movement beating against the hearth. 

Tick, tap. Tick tap. Tick, tap. 

She crouched by the iron grate, staring into the cold ashes. She murmured, repeating the same soft words. 

“Can you hear them? Knocking, knocking at the mirror? When it breaks they’ll get out.” 

Suddenly her hand stopped and Sally looked up. Somewhere in the hall, a tapping sound reverberated in unison with the ticking of a clock. 

And somewhere glass began to crack. 

 Underneath the World 

Can you feel it? That sensation of peculiarity? A strange reverberation of the uncanny running beneath your feet. A thought or two, perhaps the earth is alive with… something? Your step quickens as the twilight deepens. You avoid shadows, and the thickening mist. Who knows what eerie perils lurk in the hidden places? Best not indulge any curiosity. You want to make it home alive. 

And there you are, hand on the door, home. Safe at last. All imagings left in the dark. 

Yet… are they truly imaginary? 

What if it is all real? 

What if there is no escape? 

Aftermath 

In the boneyard, the ashes rained down, velvet grey petals coating the bare ground in a soft layer of soot. Above, the sky still flared with hues of red and purple and the few remaining trees were shrivelled and cracked. 

The automatons sorted piles of remains, as they always had, more broken skeletons stacked weekly as the mechanical retrievers brought in the flesh-stripped corpses. It was the way of things now, the clean-up. Years since the end, but the routine went on, a cycle of programming and efficient energy cells. 

One apocalyptic war, billions dead, and only the machines remained.

So that ends today's post. Be sure to hop on over and check out the offerings of the other participants as well. Here's the list.

October Frights Blog Hop

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

The Word Whisperer

Hawk's Happenings

Carmilla Voiez Blog

M'habla's!

CURIOSITIES

Frighten Me

Winnie Jean Howard

Always Another Chapter

Balancing Act

James P. McDonald

greydogtales

Looking for some new books? Check out our October Frights Spooktacular

October Frights 2019 Begins!

Welcome to the October Frights Blog Hop!

It's that time of year again when the blog gets all creepy and spooky and the creatures of the night come out to play. It's time for October Frights. This year during the hop week I'll have some stories for you, some new book covers, some poetry and lots of ghosts and ghouls. So pull up and chair and get comfortable, but be sure to leave the lights on...

We kick things off with a blast from the past and a little story I wrote a while back. Settle in for a strange spooky tale ...

Leaking Out

Drip, drip, drip.

The sound dances with the sunbeams streaming through the bedroom window. It’s a rhythm, a mind-numbing vibration of liquid striking metal. Such a strange sound to hear in the morning, the drip, drip, drip of the tap.

Or is it the tap?

Maybe it isn’t a leak. Maybe it’s something else. Blood flowing through the veins of the house. Drip, drip, dripping someone’s life away. All oozing out over the sink. Or the floor.

I wonder why I thought that?

I smell coffee.

I’m in the kitchen.

How did I get here? I’m not sure. My memory plays tricks these days. Or maybe time is playing tricks. Either way, I’ve gotten used to it. Mostly. But the dripping noise is gone. Maybe it never was. Maybe it was in my head. Probably was. Too many things are in my head.

But I still smell coffee. And toast. He made breakfast. He always made breakfast when we were first married. Or maybe I did. No, that’s not true. He did. He was sweet in the beginning.

I don’t think he’s here anymore. I think he left. But I don’t know why. Why would he leave? None of this feels right. All I know is the house is empty. Shut up tight. It’s so quiet.

And there’s no breakfast on the table. Just dust.

We were happy.

I thought we were happy.

I must’ve been wrong.

Something must’ve been wrong.

Our happiness had cracks.

He didn’t love me.

Or he wouldn’t have… no, I won’t… he didn’t… couldn’t have… he left me?

No.

I left?

Drip, drip, drip.

I can hear it again. The wet noise.

It isn’t coming from the kitchen. It sounds like it’s coming from the bathroom.

But it may not be coming from anywhere, except my head. It’s hard sometimes to know.

I’m standing outside the bathroom door now. But I was just in the kitchen. Wasn’t I? I think I was. Maybe not.

I don’t want to be here. Why? Why do I want to run? Something happened in there? I think it did. My hand is shaking.

I’m afraid.

But I can still hear the dripping.

I open the door.

The room is empty. A cheerless room.

I look down.

The stain’s still there. It’s been scrubbed and scrubbed, but it wouldn’t come out of the tile. Where the blood dripped into the widening pool of red. Bright, bright red. The stain’s pinker now.

It’s even kind of pretty. If I forget what made it.

Blood. Too much blood.

Painted on my memory. Scarlet and screaming, and all jumbled with questions. Why's and how’s. I don’t have answers. I’m not sure I want answers. I might not like them. I’d rather forget. I like it best when I don’t remember it at all. Those are the best days.

But that’s not today. Today’s not a day when I don’t remember.

Today I know what happened.

Someone died.

No, someone was murdered.

I remember.

My husband murdered me.

So that ends today's post. Be sure to hop on over and check out the offerings of the other participants as well. Here's the list.

October Frights Blog Hop

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

The Word Whisperer

Hawk's Happenings

Carmilla Voiez Blog

M'habla's!

CURIOSITIES

Frighten Me

Winnie Jean Howard

Always Another Chapter

Balancing Act

James P. McDonald

greydogtales

Looking for some new books? Check out our October Frights Spooktacular

Dark Dominions: An Anthology Preview and a Kickstarter

UPDATE: UNFORTUNATELY SINCE THIS WAS POSTED THE KICKSTARTER PROJECT WAS CANCELLED. 

Today I have something a bit different, a look at an upcoming fantasy anthology and its Kickstarter project. Enjoy.

A Fantasy Anthology.

Assassins. Knights. Crooks. And Villainous Heroes.

Fantasy storytelling at its best. Rich with 18 new and original tales by emerging and award-winning fantasy authors alike including MORGAN WRIGHT, DAVID COLLINS, NICOLE SCARANO, JAMES STEVENS, LUCY SPOONER, LIONEL RAY GREEN, JESSICA MARIE BAUMGARTNER, and JOSHUA ROBERTSON, these stories bring us tales of fear, courage, love and sacrifice in worlds of death and tyranny.

Pave the way for indomitable male and female characters. Principled assassins, gifted orphans of fire-wielding warrior bloodlines, high priestesses in possession of magical ink, and sisters born of blood, war and cruelty.

Lies. Hidden secrets. Truths to be unravelled.

Join us in worlds where a forest is marked by death, both for those who enter and those who survive it. Where a warrior as old as time is resurrected to not only fight the darkest of foes but also to come to terms with whom she has now become. Where a prime assassin who has never missed a mark begins a dance with his most elusive target yet, a mysterious and alluring witch. Where an elf knight is able to influence real-life events through magical tapestries. And where a young princess encounters danger and deception amid a border war where defeat means the end of her freedom and the ruin of her kingdom.

Welcome to Dark Dominions

About the Project

1. Summary - What is Dark Dominions?

Dark Dominions is one of the first Fantasy short story anthologies in support of gender equality. Nine male and nine female authors present new and original tales of fiction featuring strong male and female characters. You’ll find no “damsels-in-distress” within its pages. Rather, Dark Dominions takes its readers on journeys of magic, self- discovery, war, love and betrayal in worlds concocted by the imagination of incredibly talented writers including Mike Jansen, Morgan Wright, Michael Mitchell Jr., Nicole Scarano, Joshua Robertson, Kristin Clarke and David Collins.
This anthology will be WriterWriter’s first official step into publishing with an epic collection of fantasy short stories from emerging and award-winning writers alike.
By backing their Kickstarter campaign you will not only be supporting one of the first anthologies in support of gender equality but you will be rewarded for your pledge by any number of special rewards available including: early release copies, limited edition copies, Kickstarter exclusive bookmarks, limited edition bookmarks, book acknowledgements, and a backers-only forum where backers will be directly involved with the creative process, converse with the creators and contributors and be the only ones to get “a-behind-the- scenes” in the making of Dark Dominions.


2. Why Gender Equality?

Because this is something they’re passionate about. In publishing, the idea remains that women can’t write as well as men, especially not male-dominated fields such as fantasy or science-fiction.
The Founders of WriterWriter want to prove them wrong.
How they’re going to do that:

- 50% of their authors will be male and 50% of their authors will be female.

- Both genders will be treated equally and paid equally (no preferential treatment).

- The anthology will feature both strong male and strong female characters.

- The Founders of WriterWriter (writer-writer.com) themselves are male and female, and both consider each other equals. As an extra, Morgan (the female founder) advocates for the “working woman” and some of our other female authors represent the “career mother”. We often hear people use these terms in a derogatory way, as if it’s wrong for a woman to strive for a successful career. This is a traditional bias that still remains and they want to discard that. They believe a woman can have both a family and a successful career. You never hear people say things like this about men. As such, it shouldn’t be said at all.


3. Stretch Goals- What are they and what will these achieve?

Kickstarter stretch goals are goals you reach beyond your target goal, meaning that if one has a goal of say $8000 but they reach $9000 instead, the extra $1000 will go towards completing specific stretch goals.

These are the stretch goals for Dark Dominions:

• Pay Raise for all contributors

• Extra illustrations (means an image for each story in the anthology)

• Extra Stories (one stretch goal for every 2 unlocked stories- means an even bigger an anthology)

• Audiobook

• Small Print Run (200-500 copies)

• Translations (in 4 languages- Spanish, Dutch, French and German)


4. Publishing the Anthology

If there are no unforeseen delays, these are the current publishing dates they have in mind.

- Preorder: September 9

- Official Launch when the book becomes available in ebook, paperback and hardback: November 5


5. Key Dates

Kickstarter Launch Date: March 1, 2019

Kickstarter End Date: April 2, 2019


6. Featured Authors

Women:

- Morgan Wright

- Nicole Scarano

- L. Spooner

- Toni Adwell

- Jessica Marie Baumgartner

- Sherry Leclerc

- Kristin Clarke

- (Two Women Still Undecided)


Men:

- David Collins

- Lionel Ray Green

- Cal P. Logan

- Michael Mitchell Junior

- James Stevens

- Mike Jansen

- Kevin Potter

- Darren Edden

- Joshua Robertson


7. Book Illustrations by

- Mike Cook (also our Cover Artist)

- Inya Serban

- Michael Mitchell

- Lara Calleja

Check out the Kickstarter Project

What Is WriterWriter?

WriterWriter was launched in September 2018, born through the friendship of two like-minded writers who wanted to offer more to the writing community than what was currently available.
And the thing WriterWriter is most known for is its writing competitions with no limits, allowing multiple submissions to other publications so writers aren’t bound by the metaphorical chains of time (raising their chances of gaining publication faster), allowing simultaneous submissions to increase writers’ chances of winning.
Morgan Wright and David Collins teamed up to create a platform to share writer’s works- publishing short stories on their website, offering advice and inspiration for aspiring authors, offering unlimited opportunities for author interviews and book promotions and provide regular writing competitions to keep writers writing.
WriterWriter is most active on Twitter as @byWriterWriter.

Halloween Week: Unconfined Delusions

Today we have a collection of creepy crawly things with a spotlight on a new release of horror stories, Unconfined Delusions, by author Angela L. Lindseth. Enjoy.

Unconfined Delusions, Beyond the Threshold by Angela L. Lindseth

Unconfined Delusions, Beyond the Threshold, contains snippets of fast-paced, twisted fiction. The stories question the morality of organ transplantation, corner you in a dank basement, and count down the last minutes before execution. Imagine a malignant aura wrapping its inky hands around your throat or fingernails searching for a vein. Don’t let your guard down because the next page might bite.

The words slither across the page, feed on insecurities, and corrupt dreams. Savor the weird deliciousness but read with the lights on. The land of Happily Ever After doesn’t exist behind this cover.

Unconfined Delusions is available at Amazon

Angela L. Lindseth’s first collection of flash fiction, Sanity’s Threshold: Slivers of a Twisted Mind, is also available on Amazon.

About the Author

Angela L. Lindseth was raised on the plains of South Dakota, and though she spent most of her life away, the draw of the Black Hills brought her back. She has a marvelous sense of humor, loves to sing, and has a great fondness for good beer. When not scrapbooking or making jewelry, she works on her dystopian novel, The Contraption, and writes flash fiction, some of which make her question her sanity.

Website  Facebook Page  Instagram

Halloween Week: Forsaken

In keeping with the monster theme this Halloween Week, I bring you the strange world of lost Egyptian tombs and mummies. I have a spotlight on my horror story, Forsaken, published in the anthology, Abandon: 13 Tales of Impulse, Betrayal, Surrender, & Withdrawal. Enjoy.

Forsaken

Greed meets magic under the sands of Egypt as a lost tomb is discovered. Betrayal and danger lurk in the dark tunnels and something powerful waits to be awakened.

A short snippet from the story.

Forsaken by A. F. Stewart

A hot desert wind blew down a dark London street, and fine grains of sand sputtered against the street lamps. A cloaked figure of a woman shimmered out of air and shadows, thrust into the lonely night, seemingly from nowhere. Sirocco and the ancient world travelled with her, clinging to the folds of her garments.
The edge of loneliness stole out from her mind’s dark recesses, a sense of displacement she carried whenever she ventured into the bastions of civilization. Cities such as London were not her home; that had been taken from her a long time ago.
She paused, staring down the empty street to get her bearings and drew in a breath. She heard the wind tickling at her ear; the whoosh of the air, mixed with a hint of the desert, stirred her thoughts. Long buried, ever festering words conjured themselves into her consciousness.
May the desert claim you for your transgressions.
Memories flickered, of being left in the sand dunes to die. Of surviving.
Cast out because I would not renounce my loyalties.
With a sigh, she squeezed the pain back into its box and returned to the present.
She walked with quiet footfalls, and the agility of a cat, to the entrance of a large house nestled on the street. Its windows reflected a murky interior, and no sign of life offered welcome; a foreboding place most would avoid. Yet, the woman rapped on the door, the echo of the brass knocker breaking the night’s peace. Moments later, a tall lanky man answered, his sallow face and grin peering out from beneath a bowler hat.
The woman smiled, repressing the upsurge of revulsion. “Jackal. Is your master at home?”
“Hello to you too, Hagar. He’s here waiting for you. Come in.”

You can find the story (plus many more fabulous tales) in the horror anthology, Abandon: 13 Tales of Impulse, Betrayal, Surrender, & Withdrawal

ABANDON: 13 Tales of Impulse, Betrayal, Surrender, & Withdrawal

To act with abandon, in any sense of the word, is human. Whether it’s the sudden, strong urge to do something, either good or bad, or the act of betraying someone you love, we make choices that forever change our lives. Do you give into something or someone completely, or withdraw wholly into yourself? These thirteen stories run the gamut of emotions and express horror as you’ve never imagined it.

The story of a woman alone at the end of the world and the small lifeline she hopes will prove humanity still exists challenges the search for anything left behind after the death of a child. What if you hid a secret you’d thought no one else knew? Would its revelation spark the monster hiding within? A downward spiral into madness juxtaposes the ultimate, but impossible, (re)birth. Would you choose the frigid winds of winter over the warmth and safety of your lover’s arms?

Abandon hope, all who enter here…

#October Frights Day Four: Spooky Story Time

Today it is time for some spooky stories, for those tales to read with the lights on, all about things that go bump in the night...

Spooky Storytime

Midnight in Purgatory

At the crossroads, beneath the half-moon and the undertone stench of brimstone, the shadows gathered. The breath of a witch's hiss and the cold touch of death spelled the air, while the mocking laughter of the damned echoed in the trees.

A sniffle, a groan, and the shuffle of footsteps down the road swirled past the night as a hunched figure walked along the dirt, circling the crossroads. A long black coat flapped against spindly legs, the collar turned to ward off the chill, and a floppy hat pulled low engulfed his features in silhouette. The sound of his scuffing feet against the dirt made a strange rhythm, a scraping beat pulsing into the black abyss. Round and round he walked, only looking up and slowing to a halt when another figure, a man, strolled down the road.

The new man stopped in the middle of the crossroads, the grin of the devil on his face, smack in the center of the circle traced by the feet of the figure in the long coat. The fresh arrival reached in a pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes and matches. He lit a smoke, shadows and nicotine vapour passing over his face. He licked his lips and spoke.

“My name’s Nick. Time to deal.”

“Such a rush.” The voice of the black-clad figure smacked the night with a hollow tone vibrating halfway between a rasp and a croak and holding a weariness of a dead man’s bones. “Savour the moment. Ain’t nothing like it going to come your way again soon.” A cracking noise that might have been a chuckle sounded, and then, “Besides, it’s been a long time since I seen you. I want a good long look this time.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed and he sneered. The cigarette dropped and he squashed it under his shoe. “I know you, old man? We do a deal before? Because you can’t sell your soul twice, not even to the devil.” Nick laughed.

“Oh, we’ve met. A while back, but I didn’t sell my soul to you.” The figure in black lifted his head, a pale, gaunt face staring at Nick. For a moment it almost seemed his eyes glinted red under his hat. “That would be quite impossible, Nick, seeing you’re a fraud. You ain’t the devil.” A wicked grin lit the man’s face, and, for an instant, his appearance seemed… angelic. 
“I know you, Nick, back when your name was David and you ran two-bit hustles out of a revival tent. Back when you whispered your sins to the moon, and you came to another crossroads begging for a life that was wasting away from too much whiskey and cigarettes.” The man in black looked down at the dirt. “I see you never gave up that habit. Even after the cancer went away.”

“How did you…” Nick took a step back, the sneer and bravado gone and fear creeping across his face. “You've got no proof I did anything criminal.”

That cracking chuckle sounded again. “Of course, you done things criminal. Lined your pockets with other people’s money, lied, cheated, and things far worse to damn your soul. You and I know that. For the longest time, you were my favourite.”

A wisp of air, foul and hot, escaped his lips on the edge of a sigh. “But I can’t forgive this. You give the Devil his due, you don’t steal his thunder.” A smile flickered on his lips as the sky streaked wide with a booming noise and a flash of lightning.

Nick jumped and stumbled back against the edge of the circle etched in the road. A hot burst of fire and burning pain seared through cloth and flesh and Nick screamed. He jerked and fell forward on his face, before rolling onto his back with a whimper. “Who are you?”

The figure in black doffed his hat and gave a little smile. “Now, I’m hurt you don’t remember. Fifteen years ago you sold me your soul for good health and a charmed new life. Name’s Lucifer. And it’s time for me to collect what you owe.”

The crossroads circle erupted in a wall of hellfire, damnation and fresh new screams, followed by a trail of laughter. When the smoke and stink cleared, only charred ash and burns littered the road and the small echo of a man’s lost soul.

~*~

Waiting

The wind coughed dust along a dry parched riverbed, long devoid of water. The swirling gusts scraped and buried my bones, my decayed body losing its battle with the elements and time. The breeze and scattering dirt made the only noise in this curse-drenched corner of the world. All other life had long since fled or lay buried with me. I watched the last gleam of bleached white remains disappear under the unrelenting sand, still tied to the corpse of what I used to be. For now at least. That would change soon.

The earth had finally swallowed my bones and they would be coming.

I heard them out there in the distance. Had for some time. Drifting on the edges of the wind. The dark winged beasts, the curse-bringers, the carrion eaters of the soul. They were the ones that led me here to die. Soon, they would show themselves and my curse will reach its end.

The last of me would disappear into the darkness.

And we also have a giveaway!

The October Frights Giveaway

For more October Frights Blog Hop

#OctoberFrights Day Three: The Subtlety of Terror

Today I bring you a look at the talented author, Christie Stratos. I'm featuring her new horror short story, The Subtlety of Terror, her first foray in pure horror, as well as her great historical thrillers the Dark Victoriana Collection. Enjoy...

 

The Subtlety of Terror: A Short Horror Read by Christie Stratos 

It's the quietest evils that are the most horrifying—their persistence, constant presence, and unyielding terror. Real horror flourishes in its perpetual infliction of fear.

Available from
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords

The Dark Victoriana Collection

Anatomy of a Darkened Heart

Abigail Delilah is the firstborn of three Whitestone children - and she is the most regretted.

But is it really her fault?

She can't help that the revelation of Father's wretched secret coincides with her birth. She can't help the fear she feels during Mother's psychological - and physical - assaults. As the shadows grow stronger over her soul and the noose of pain tightens around her neck, Abigail will find out which is stronger: her family's wicked assumptions about her or her true self.

Available at
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords

Brotherhood of Secrets

"Brothers in the art of keeping secrets." 

This is the mantra Mr. Locke's carefully chosen five employees must repeat together every day before starting work.

If you won't tell them your name for Locke and Keye's ledger, they'll find out. They have their ways--and many of them. Yes, these talented locksmiths can make a new lock and key set for you. They can even make a special padlock for a diary you never want to share with anyone. But just remember: when they make the lock, they keep a key--and it's only a matter of time until they use it.

Day by day, each of these young, single, alone-in-the-world workers is being molded into the family they crave. A family in which each member has his use toward an end he doesn't even know exists.

How do the brotherhood and the town's secrets interlock? Only Mr. Locke holds the key. 

Available on 
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords

About the Author

Christie Stratos is an award-winning writer who holds a degree in English Literature. She is the author of Anatomy of a Darkened Heart and Brotherhood of Secrets, the first two books in the Dark Victoriana Collection. Christie has had short stories and poetry published in Ginosko Literary Journal, Andromedae Review, 99Fiction, and various anthologies. An avid reader of all genres and world literature, Christie reads everything from bestsellers to classics to indies.

Website  Newsletter  Amazon Page  Author YouTube

Instagram  Twitter  Facebook  Goodreads  Pinterest

The Writer’s Edge YouTube 

Creative Edge Writer’s Showcase

And now for the October Frights giveaway!

The October Frights Giveaway

For more October Frights Blog Hop