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Posts tagged “horror

The EXAMINER Interview with Patrick C. Greene, author of ‘The Crimson Calling’

When I was a kid I was scared of vampires. I had nightmares of the world being taken over by them, and if they were creatures like Count Yorga and Christopher Lee’s Dracula, and the merciless vamps…

Source: The EXAMINER Interview with Patrick C. Greene, author of ‘The Crimson Calling’


FREE KINDLE BOOKS!

In celebration of Patrick C. Greene’s new release THE CRIMSON CALLING from Hobbes End Publishing, we have decided to give away several of Patrick’s short stories this week. Download your copies now and tell a friend! Today through Friday June 24 – HURRY! Click on the titles below.

TRICK
GUARDIAN OF THE ORCHARD
CINDERBLOCK


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Holiday Wrappings (Anthology)

*****5 STARS!! Read the entire review here: Holiday Wrappings (Anthology).

HolidayWrappings FINAL


HOLIDAY WRAPPINGS: A Selection of Witches, Ghosts, and Vampires

Sekhmet Press presents

HOLIDAY WRAPPINGS

A LIMITED EDITION (Kindle) Collection featuring thirteen stories from Wrapped in Red, Wrapped in White, and Wrapped in Black

by Allison M. Dickson, Patrick C. Greene, Gordon White, Rose Blackthorn, Bryan W. Alaspa, Shenoa Carroll-Bradd, Michael G. Williams, Cecilia Dockins, Solomon Archer, Nick Kimbro and Michael D. Matula.

PRE-ORDER TODAY

Available Black Friday through New Year’s Eve.

HolidayWrappings FINAL

PRAISE FOR THE WRAPPED SERIES

“More than horror, an array of emotions that leak off the pages into your mind and at times into your very soul.”

“Every single story was a page turner…Don’t miss out on this terrific book!”

“The Curse of Kirby” by Patrick Greene is darkly twisted in a way that left me vacillating between gales of laughter and horrified disgust.”

“Allison M. Dickson presents the reader with the complete picture… beautifully described settings of anguish, populated with characters that have a strange and unique story to tell.”

“Brilliant and artistically woven anthology.”


UNTO THE EARTH by Patrick C. Greene

excerpt from

WRAPPED IN BLACK

Thirteen Tales of Witches and the Occult

WrappedinBlack NEW COVER


UNTO THE EARTH
By Patrick Greene

Landon Stower strolled with his dog Shucky along a clean white sidewalk, contented in the placidity of the neighborhood he’d called home since his release from the hospital two years before, sporting a battered baseball cap insigned with the logo of his favorite team, the Baton Rouge Buzzards.
Whistling as he went, Landon waved to his next door neighbor as he turned into his own fenced yard and closed the gate behind him, removing the leash from the panting black lab. He gave the dog a vigorous cheek rub. “Niiiice boy, Shuck.”
Entering his house, Landon was greeted with an exotic, redolent scent and the rhythms of a soft voice.
“Mm!” Landon sniffed the air. “Agnes!?”
When his wife did not answer, Landon set aside the leash and followed his senses to the kitchen. Dressed in hospital scrubs like the day she attended him after his accident (and stole his heart in the process) she was working over a steaming pot, humming “Row Your Boat” as she twisted and crushed dried herbs into the boiling concoction.
“Uh oh. Another voodoo spell?” he joked.
Mildly startled, Agnes laughed and turned to kiss him. “VO-dou,” she corrected in her rich French-Haitian argot. “And no, it’s dinner, my silly handsome boy.”
“Boy?” He drew her into his arms. “Mmm. You do keep me young, I think.” Agnes’ embrace was warm, comforting, enrapturing. Landon breathed of her neck and hair and the scrubs top, loving even its antiseptic hospital smell, as long as it was accented by her.
She finally pulled away and returned to the stove. “Aaaaah don’t leave me hanging!” he protested. He grabbed her ass, kissing her neck.
“Ooooh I don’t deserve you,” she teased. “You do want your special dinner don’t you?”
“…How special?”
Her smile was wide and playful, as she gestured at the pot with her wooden ladle. “You said I keep you young!”
“So it is a voodoo hex!”
“VO-DOUUUUUU!”
Landon went to the living room, laughing as he tossed his good luck charm Buzzards cap onto the couch and sat beside it, switching on the television to watch the cap’s namesake team play.
But there was only static.
“Dammit!” he got up and checked the hookup. “Hey Aggie? Did you pay the cable?”
“Oh! I thought so!” she called.
“I don’t think so,” Landon muttered, rubbing his face. “First game of the season tonight, Ag.”
His mood ruined, Landon muted the television and picked up a magazine–finding it was in French. He tried a Newsweek–also in French. “You subscribed to these fucking magazines in my name but they’re in French!”
She only continued to hum the childish song.
“You read English, but I don’t read French. Didja know that?”
“Oh, you should learn!” was her cheerful response.
Landon frowned. “Maybe YOU should just..!” He trailed off, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “…nevermind.”
Her humming shortened the song by a few notes, becoming more monotonous. Landon’s stomach growled at him. “How long till dinner?”
“Oh…an hour.” Even more cheerful–and annoying. The humming began again; only five notes this time, and off key.
“Shit…” Landon whispered under his breath.
It seemed to grow louder, to echo throughout the house and his head, filling his ears, becoming grating.
“Agnes…AGNES! STOP!”
She did not. Landon stared at the static, the magazines, the open doorway from which the discordant notes reached his burning ears, and he began to seethe. He sat still for several minutes, hoping she would stop, or at least change it up some. But she didn’t.
“Are you listening to me!?” He was suddenly standing, taking impatient strides toward the kitchen.
He entered the kitchen, his love for Agnes absent as he stared at her back, sure she knew he was there, though she just worked and hummed and hummed, offering no acknowledgement.
“STOP, GODDAMMIT!”
She turned and looked at him. There was no sense that she had been startled this time, no expression at all-and she continued to hum.

Read the entire story in

WRAPPED IN BLACK: Thirteen Tales of Witches and the Occult

RELEASE DATE: October 18, 2014


 

Patrick Headshot 433x650As a toddler, Patrick C. Greene was creating horrors in crayon and magic marker upon every available surface. Not surprisingly, he soon discovered comic books and immersed himself in the fantastic worlds found therein. Horror fiction and films came next, and despite spending nights of terror hiding under covers, he always found himself drawn back to tales of dark fates.

Greene cut his fangs in the screenwriting business but found his true calling in the world of prose fiction of the kind his heroes King, Barker and Koontz create.

With the success of his first novel PROGENY, and the upcoming THE CRIMSON CALLING from Hobbes End Publishing, Greene presents a brand of horror as emotional as it is terrifying, as engaging as it is suspenseful.

Living at night, deep in the mountains of Western North Carolina, Greene answers the call of his morbid muse when not enjoying monstrous helpings of horror, kung fu and doom metal.

You can keep up with Patrick at www.patrickcgreene.com or http://www.facebook.com/patrickcgreene


NOT THIS TIME by Mike Lester

excerpt from

WRAPPED IN BLACK

Thirteen Tales of Witches and the Occult

WrappedinBlack NEW COVER


NOT THIS TIME
by Mike Lester

I decided to take a walk.
Melanie would have liked that.
The day was lovely, breezy, bright under a blue sky, bluer than I ever thought possible. Not at all the kind of day I expected it to be. The grass was dry and golden and waist high. Soon it would be taller. Tall enough to hide in. Tall enough to get lost in. Almost. I ran my fingers through the grass, blade tips tickling my palms like blinking eyelashes.
I looked back to the house, back the way I had come, my path a darker shade running through the field. I picked up the bucket and kept on. The bucket was heavy. The wire handle dug into my fingers and I had to keep switching my grip from hand to hand, careful not to spill.
They were all still inside, eating and drinking and telling stories about Melanie, no doubt. As if they knew her.
Up ahead, I could see the lane and the tall trees that lined it, tall and straight, two green, even rows falling all the way back to the highway. I remembered foggy mornings. Walking along the path. The tops of trees shrouded, swaying. Melanie and I would always run ahead of the others, trying to get lost, thinking the fog would take us away, away from the paths and the field and the world. But then Uncle Brad’s voice or footsteps or some other human noise would reach through and bring us back.
I had seen the look in her eyes and recognized it.
Not this time. Soon.
That was a long time ago.
I stepped out of the dry grass and onto the lane. Looked up to the tops of the trees, half-expecting them to be blotted out like before. But no, not today. Today they were golden and green and bright yellow, leaves flickering like shiny coins. I set the bucket down in the gravel and looked back home again. Chimney. The roof, smaller now, far off on the other side of the field. Solitary. A dollhouse.
Mother wouldn’t let me take my tie off, not even after the service. Not even up on top of the hill with the sun beating down on us all. It was hot and still and I couldn’t look when she was lowered. Not because I was sad though. I could hardly keep from smiling. At one point I thought maybe Uncle Brad had noticed, and so I started to feel bad and did my best not to smile.
Now everything is different. Now I could smile if I wanted to and I even whistled a bit. Just a bit.

Read the entire story in

WRAPPED IN BLACK: Thirteen Tales of Witches and the Occult

RELEASE DATE: October 18, 2014


lesterMike Lester is the author of An Occasional Dream, published in 2002 by indie crime publisher UglyTown. His story “The Courtier” will appear in Aaron J. French’s upcoming expanded edition of The Shadow of the Unknown. He currently lives in South Carolina.


PIGEON by Eric Nash

excerpt from

WRAPPED IN BLACK

Thirteen Tales of Witches and the Occult

WrappedinBlack NEW COVER


PIGEON
by Eric Nash

Sitting on the playground, fingering the amulet which adorned her wrist, Maddie thought that the clockwork conspiracy was genius in the way it dictated her fall.

If Jack, her ex-boyfriend and ex-boss, hadn’t made that girl pregnant, he would not have left Maddie. If she hadn’t been forced to quit her job because of his unreasonable behaviour then she wouldn’t be working in the Estate Agents doing weekend shifts, and would not have been taking her lunch-break in the park. She would not have been watching a magpie swagger through the grass as she listened to her sister waffle on about how fantastic her holiday was – second already that year and it still only July – while her nephew walked along a balance bar between the swing and the climbing frame. If her sister, who never liked Jack and still frequently informed Maddie of this fact, hadn’t told her about her new job, the pay increase and the flirty fit bloke that had interviewed her, she would not have walked over to her nephew, who then would not have bet her that she couldn’t walk all the way along the bar like he had done twice. Maddie stepped up. She would have reached the end if a motorcycle hadn’t backfired and the magpie hadn’t leapt into flight, but it did and so did the other, and the frantic fluttering of wings came inches from Maddie’s face making her twist and flail and fall left off the narrow beam.

Even though she hadn’t landed exactly on the left hand path – the path was some distance away on the other side of the park – she felt that the act of falling to her left counted as the same thing. Now that she had fallen she was, of course, duty-bound to explore her desires and maximise her satisfaction.

Or maybe, Maddie just needed to give herself permission to repay Jack for the three years of pills caused by his betrayal.

Whatever the reason, her liberation began with the removal of her amulet. It was a plain silver band, around which she had wrapped a lock of Jack’s hair. Back when he wore it long. Back when he was hers. To secure the hair she had bound it with red silk. It had protected her from harm every day she and Jack had been together. After, it had been very successful in keeping him near.

Abandoning her nephew to the whims of his self-obsessed mother, Maddie unravelled the silk and let it trail behind her in the dirt, discarding it at the park gates when she turned left to take the Number 9 bus. Knowing what she was about to do had her heart skipping over her hollow belly. The act of allowing herself to do it swept away the many inhibitions that contained her, and made her body tremble with excitement. At the bus stop, she couldn’t help but play hide-and-peek with her reflection, each time lingering a little longer to marvel at the upward curve of her lips and the universe revealed in her eyes.

All the while, Maddie crushed the hair in her fist.

Read the entire story in

WRAPPED IN BLACK: Thirteen Tales of Witches and the Occult

RELEASE DATE: October 18, 2014


Photo Credit: boj32

Photo Credit: boj32

Eric Nash writes dark speculative fiction. As yet he has not won, or been nominated for, any awards for his literary works. However, he is working on this and will be sure to let you know when he does. He lives in the south-west of England, possibly with his wife and children but he can’t be sure as demons have lashed him to his writing desk and bolted the door.

He has a website, http://eanash.wordpress.com, and can also be found on social media at http://www.facebook.com/EricNashauthor.