by Matthew Leeth
Everyone at Bailey View High School is excited about the Halloween dance…. but the excitement shatters when something horrible happens during the festivities… Now Stacey takes on the responsibility of finding out who did what…. and why?
From the author of the horror novel, She Was Different.
by C. Evenfall
Libby Carter Martin has struggled her entire adult life to put her childhood and a dark past behind her. After a decade, a sudden death takes her and her daughter, Shyanne, back to her childhood home. Shyanne does not want to go and resists, imploring her mother not to force her. When Libby insists, Shyanne demands that her imaginary playmate make the trip with the rest of the family. Libby soon learns that a harmless childish notion is much more than it seems.
As Libby unburies certain truths about her family, she comes to realize that she possesses certain bizarre abilities that she does not understand. Even more shocking is the insight that her young daughter has gifts that surpass her own. The dark entity that has haunted Libby’s family for a century manifests itself to Shyanne, and terrifies Libby.
With the help of Old Isaiah, Libby uncovers long-buried, sinister secrets and overcomes a gripping fear that has held her back her entire life. If she does not unlock the powers inside herself, she could lose Shyanne to the dark man forever.
by Sara Green
Spirt boards conjure tales of terror, ancient and modern, in this collection of nine terrifying tales from todays up-and-coming authors.
In this issue:
THE EIGHT OF CUPS by Erica Bogosian
THE MISSIONAIRES by Ed Ahern
PITTER by Sara Green
SMILE by Alison Whewell
LET IT RING by Simon McHardy
WISH HUNT by George Strasburg
THE FORGOTTEN FEAR by Shane Porteous
MY HAUNTED ROOM by Devin Strasburg
OUIJA by Anddre Valdivia
Most content will not be suitable for those easily scared. You have been warned.
by Ruth Francisco
In 2003, an amateur naturalist and self-proclaimed protector of the grizzly bear traveled to Kaflia Bay in Alaska to live with the grizzlies for three months. His girlfriend joined him. On October 6, the mangled remains of their bodies were found eaten by a grizzly.
What happened exactly? Why would any man be so foolish as to try to live with wild grizzly bears? Why would a woman follow him? Why would they stay beyond a time when any sane person would have left? When the only grizzlies not headed toward their winter dens are insatiably hungry. Mean old bears. Aggressive bears.
Told from three perspectivesâ??man, woman, and bearâ??this fictionalized account of historical events takes the story into the realm of mythology to explore our most essential fears, and our most elemental driveâ??hunger. Man hungers for purpose, hungers for fame, hungers for God. Woman hungers for romantic love, for a love that will give her life meaning. What happens if the Man mistakes the grizzly for God, if the Woman mistakes the Man for her white knight?
The grizzly allows no such mistakes. The grizzly knows only the hunger in its belly.
by Kandi Vale
They say that time heals all wounds. For Kisa, however, the more time that passes, the more of herself she begins to lose. Grief has made her a shell of her former self; eating away at every feeling and driving her slowly to the brink of madness. No matter how desperately she tries to feel something, nothing gets through.
For millennia Dolor has walked the world, watching humanity evolve and devolve before him. After all this time, he has grown content where he is. With true friends at his side, he’s created a profitable establishment; a BDSM club for the supernatural. Being one of the most powerful beings in creation has its perks, and he wants for nothing. Until Kisa…
It’s pain that brings them together. Something she needs to feel, and something he needs to exist. What they don’t know, is what’s about to be unleashed. Will Kisa put her life in Dolor’s hands? Can Dolor teach Kisa to dance in her darkness, or will her pain consume them both?
by Roger Villegas
Por una maldiciÃ³n familia transmitida por generaciones TeÃ³filo Almada, sin pertenecer a esa estirpe adquiriÃ³ casi por accidente la peculiaridad de poder separar su espÃritu de su cuerpo. Al principio le ocurriÃ³ involuntariamente, sin darse cuenta, mientras dormÃa su alma se le escapaba y salÃa a caminar por el mundo, a deambular entre la gente. El creÃa que lo soÃ±aba.
Poco a poco fue tomando conciencia de que no eran ilusiones onÃricas lo que le sucedÃa, sino que realmente por un fenÃ³meno inexplicable, como todo fenÃ³meno paranormal, se vio con la peculiaridad de poder separar cuerpo y alma. Por esa facultad de desdoblarse su espÃritu, un ente con voluntad propia y conciente, es decir su esencia misma, abandonaba su ser material cual despojo inerte. Ã?l, TeÃ³filo Almada, sin su espÃritu era como un cuerpo muerto, en consecuencia era en realidad un ser espiritual, encadenado a un cuerpo carnal. Todo ello a despecho de se racionalidad y de su materialismo manifiesto.
Con el paso de los dÃas fue aprendiendo a manipular tal caracterÃstica a voluntad; no le resultÃ³ fÃ¡cil hacerlo deliberadamente, pues los espÃritus por ser una especie de energÃa inmaterial no estÃ¡n sujetos a las leyes fÃsicas del espacio ni a la temporalidad, pero a pesar de todo, y con mucho esfuerzo, llegÃ³ el momento de que sus desdoblamientos fueron voluntarios y tambiÃ©n su actuaciÃ³n como espÃritu, y comenzÃ³ a usarlo para actos de venganza con tintes macabros. Lo que no podÃa hacer como espÃritu era vaticinar el futuro, por lo que no pudo anticipar su final.
by R.C. Farrington
Blood Fangs Quest for the Dark One First book in the new Blood Fang Series It was the year of our Lord, sixteen hundred and twenty-nine. Zuka, dark prince of the jungle, and his blood beasts, had for over one hundred years ravaged the local native tribes deep within the Congo jungle. Overwhelmed by a massive hurricane the blood beasts find themselves trapped in the Bermuda Triangle. For hundreds of years Zuka and his clan of blood beasts have searched for a portal back to his world to avenge his betrayal and to find a blood queen. This rare strain of blood beasts, have very extraordinary powers making them almost indestructible. There is no end to their thirst for blood. The Spinners, (from the Spinners Trilogy) after a ten-year absence from the Bermuda Triangle, are now young adults. A troubling distress call from a friend deep within the Triangle lures them back into the parallel world of the unknown. The Spinners must stop the blood beasts before they can find the gateway portal allowing them to return to the world that they were banished from over four hundred years ago. The Spinners will only have one chance to stop these beasts. In this epic battle of man versus blood beast there can just be one survivor.
by Brian Barr
There is wisdom in black seas and eternal lands, beyond the visions of the mundane world, where all dreams and nightmares intersect to become one.
There is blood, and spirit, which fuel the hearts and minds of expert magicians, allowing them to break through the fabric of illusions and penetrate the core of existence.
In this occult, dark fantasy of pirates, witches, and mages, we see reality in its uncompromising, inmistakable form.
We see, and we die.
by Roger Alderman
Twistedly Terrifying Tales from a Twisted Mind 2 is a collection of gore-filled, action-packed fast-paced tales of Horror many of which take place in the small Florida town of Port St. John. In the vein of LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT, TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, and PARANORMAL ACTIVITY – TWISTEDLY TERRIFYING TALES FROM A TWISTED MIND 2 will leave you exhausted and drained. Brutal and Violent stories that hurtle the reader along at a break-neck pace – one that horror fans should not miss!
by J. R. Marshall
This is not a children’s book,Â neither is it a thuggish journey of boring brutality and ignorance. However the book does include some magic, lots of sword fights and unexpected allies as Miller finds support and enemies alike.
Miller is incredibly intelligent, this is in itself unusual, for Miller is Half Orc and Half Human, and whilst the story starts with his escape from captivity, it moves swiftly through adventures in a world filled with prejudice and self interest.
There’s humour mixed with the unexpected, conflicted thoughts and decision making. Miller needs to survive whilst so much is stacked against him. Will he?
As i wrote this book i wanted to make it different, not the usual Dungeons and Dragons boring scenario, yet there are elements of dnd in this book, but written from a more mature perspective. You’ll be an ally of Miller by the time you’ve finished this story, perhaps?
I hope you enjoy this book, I’ve tried to make it different, worth your money! The second in this series is released in January 2019.
Comments from readers; review and extracts...
“Sorcerer & Warrior – Half Orc”
“I liked this, it is different. The plot is a great take on a simple idea, but with the use of first person narrative it is elevated to a interesting story. The main character is fascinating, strength, intelligent combine for a complex protagonist…”
“Good Read. Interesting plot. I liked the Different type and variety of characters. Found the whole story interesting and well written. Never thought I would be rooting for a half orc!
“Thinking that this was going to be yet another of those bland and wishy-washy stories raided from the D&D-type general store, I was more than pleasantly surprised to find that it was not: This book is full of originality!”
“This has all the ingredients to fire the imagination, Magic, Swords and Sorcery, battles with friends and foes alike.”
“Miller the half orc warrior sorcerer tries to be wicked but keeps doing the right thing! – You will Love It…”
And a little bit more about ‘Miller’….
‘I am Miller, a half-orc warrior sorcerer, a servant of none, yet indebted to two individuals a Dwarf and a Halfling, and destined to build a kingdom.’ Nonetheless the darkness of my heart corrupts my mind, it’s so easy to forget civilised behaviour, yet I’m not wholly ruined nor without redemption, nonetheless most of society treats me with contempt, always accepting my silver, yet seldom with cheer.
Book Two (release date January 2019) will continue the mature reading approach.
by Pilar Lepe
Dicen que en algÃºn lugar del mundo todos tenemos un gemelo idÃ©ntico.
El matrimonio con Jack, estaba desgastado y ella tuvo la idea de una segunda luna de miel, en los frÃos parajes de Noruega, pero un fatal accidente la sumergiÃ³ hasta al fondo del fiordo, de donde es rescatada por Rolf.
En realidad Brenda no querÃa ser revivida, pero unas manos atrevidas la empujaron nuevamente al mundo de los vivos.
Al conocer a Rolf, pensÃ³ que por fin alcanzaba la tan esquiva felicidad, pero las cosas nunca son tan fÃ¡ciles, y menos aÃºn si no son lo que parecen…
Desgraciadamente para Brenda, su dicha depende de los caprichos que oculta el agua.
Â¿QuÃ© harÃas tÃº, si tu sombra se cruza en tu camino?
by Nora Snowdon
This playful take on modern werewolves is perfect for fans of Dakota Cassidy’s Wolf Mates series. Sexy, hilarious, and emotionally satisfying, Just One Bite is a cute novella you can really sink your teeth into.
Rosie has an amazing one-night-stand with the most perfect man. Ever. He’s gorgeous, funny and really seems to like her. Then she overhears that his ex-girlfriend is pregnant and he’s being forced into a shotgun wedding. Hell, the only good thing that came out of that night she met Lucas, was the mangy dog who now jogs with her. He may be an odd looking mutt, but at least he’s a good listener.
Lucas adores Rosie but she hates him because she thinks he’s a lying sleaze who cheated on his fiancÃ©e. Nothing could be further from the truth. Not to mention, Rosie would freak out if she found out he’s a werewolf.
The other problem is, she only likes her jogging partner the wolf, and not the man. But damn, how do you woo a woman if all you can do is bark?
“Witty and warm-hearted, Just One Bite is a fun romantic comedy that will have you howling with laughter.” Helen Frost and Don Macleod, Screenwriters of Hallmark’s Just In Time For Christmas
Just One Bite is the first book in the Dances With Werewolves series. It is a paranormal romantic comedy with adult situations and is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
Dear readers: Please note, this book, originally published in 2012 with a small e-press, has been revised and was originally titled Love At First Sniff.
by Michael Morgan
As she fell through the air, Claire reassured herself the fall would not be enough to kill her and that the real killer would find her fast enough. But once she hit the ground, she laid there, numb and motionless, pools of red hot blood accumulating all throughout her body. As she knew the blood loss was too much to recover from, she recalled everything about the incident that consumed her every waking moment. The petrified look on her friends faces, their chokes of pain and desperation, the slight hint of almonds in the air.
She scent of almonds suddenly triggered a new memory, unlocked it. She remembered smelling it in the party. Where exactly? She struggled to pinpoint the exact moment she smelled the hint of almonds. Suddenly, an image began to resurface behind her closed eyelids – the bottle of poison.
Hydrogen cyanide gave off the slight hint of almonds. Claire now remembers glancing at the poison as she searched for a weapon to use against Rev, how she knocked the bottle over while grasping for her bag for a can of pepper spray. She remembers it spilling across the ground and seeping into the pool but she was too disoriented to notice and too preoccupied to warn her friends. She realizes she killed them by accident, in the attempt to save them. Claire felt like her entire world was collapsing down on her, spiraling into her and smashing into her being. I killed them, Claire thought to herself. The autumn leaves blew around the crisp air, floating softly and slowly, as if to pay tribute to the tragedy below them.
“I am so sorry.” She whispered.
Claire felt as if this was the proper end. Perhaps this ending was the only way to do justice to what she had done. And so she stopped fighting. Slowly, but surely, she fell deeper and deeper into unconsciousness, as her eyelids struggled to keep open and her vision began tunneling. Suddenly, she was snapped back from her peaceful departure into awareness, as she heard a rustle in the leaves, then footsteps.
“How could you do this to me, dear Claire?” A liquid soft voice crooned from a distance.
She thought she was simply imagining things, hearing voices. Perhaps she had already entered the next life, and this voice was not real. But the sudden shadow that covered the light pouring from the lampshade proved Claire otherwise. There was definitely a dark figure standing right above her head – a man.
“If I wanted you to die quick and easy, I would have pushed you out that building myself. Instead I felt you deserved a moreâ?¦ dignified end. But we don’t always get what we want, or what we deserve, do we? We don’t get our happy endings because after all…
This is reality.”
by Jess Butcher
Mr. Pennebaker’s Tractor (a Lexington Avenue Express short story – 2,100 words)
Except for the occasional Good mornin’ courtesy, I’d never really spoken with Mr. Eldon Pennebaker. I was born in the Mississippi delta town that bore his family name and like most of the other kids, grew up avoiding direct contact with the imposing man who owned one of the largest farms in the state.
In July of â??68, three recent Roosevelt High graduates and a small group of well-wishers stood uneasily beside an idling Greyhound. Lex, Ronnie, and I were on our way to another delta, one located in an unreal black-and-white world we’d seen flashing behind Walter Cronkite. The bus driver was inside Blue’s Cafe and as we waited for him to finish his coffee, my mom clung to me silently. Years earlier, a father I knew only from faded family photos had also taken a Greyhound before melting forever into a snowy Korean-hillside.
The uniformed driver appeared, closing the luggage compartment doors, heralding our imminent departure. I bent and kissed my mom but before I could promise her I’d be home soon she slipped away from me, wilting like a tulip in the Mississippi sun. The armor of my teenage bravado cracked at her abrupt withdrawal and cruel intuition whispered to me; I would never see her again.
Turning toward the cafe, I saw Mr. Pennebaker framed in the two-tone gray haze of a scarred screen window. He stood mopping his broad forehead with a bandana, watching as his man Isaiah approached us. Isaiah was a Negro of indeterminate age, stooped and painfully thin. He removed the green John Deere ball cap covering his salt-and-pepper and reverently extended a hand, first to Lex, then to Ronnie.
Like Isaiah, my two companions were colored, and they greeted the old man respectfully. His warm and ready smile shined in stark contrast to the dour man he constantly accompanied. To this day I’m ashamed to admit I hesitated when Isaiah turned to me and offered his delicate handshake. He must have sensed my awkwardness, but his hand remained extended for the extra instant I needed. It seems a small thing now, but Isaiah’s simple gesture forever changed me.
When the bus pulled away that sweltering morning, Mr. Pennebaker’s Ford pickup truck was parked in front of Blue’s Cafe. As was his custom, Isaiah had crossed the street to his familiar post, sitting on the curb in the shade of the big willow oak in front of Rebel Tractor Repair.
Thirty months later, a lifetime, the Greyhound returned me to Pennebaker, Mississippi on a blustery February morning. A Chevy pickup had replaced the Ford in front of Blue’s Cafe but little else seemed changed. Isaiah was sitting in the same spot beneath the now-leafless oak tree. Smiling broadly, he rose to his feet, waved, and crossed the street to greet me.
“Mornin’ Mr. David,” he said.
“Mornin’ Isaiah,” I replied. He didn’t shake my hand but hugged me instead. This time, I welcomed his touch.
“You’re all back home now,” he whispered, patting my back gently.
“I reckon,” I said softly. Lex and Ronnie had preceded me. They were both resting in the hillside cemetery south of the Greater Spirit Baptist Church.
“Sorry about your momma,” he said.
I nodded but didn’t respond. Her death nine days earlier had been sudden. In spite of my best effort, Uncle Sam and twelve thousand miles had prevented me from attending the funeral.
As the two of us stood for a moment, a buffeting north wind slammed the Bunny Bread-adorned screen door of the cafe, signaling the emergence of Eldon Pennebaker. As Mr. Pennebaker approached, Isaiah touched my arm and with a nod, departed for his post across the street. Oddly, Pennebaker looked younger to me than he had nearly three years earlier.
“Good morning, Mr. Coyle,” he said, his cadence and tone perfect Mississippi delta.
“I bought the old Rebel building when it went bust last year,” he drawled, tilting his head toward the abandoned repair shop acr
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