Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed

“Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed”
a new anthology from Sirens Call Publications

“It’s only a dream, there’s nothing to be frightened of!”  As a child, how many times did you hear those words? Or how many times did you wish to hear them? Take a step back into the minds of the twelve authors who wandered into their own creative imaginings to deliver for you a spine tingling collection of horror stories that will leave everyone wondering what is really out there in the darker recesses of the night. Should you be frightened?

Those whispered tales of monsters hiding under the bed, or of the demons lurking in the shadowy corner where we dare not glance for fear that seeing them will make them all too real. Oh, how the innocent landscape of a child’s imagination lends fertile soil to horrors ready to be sown on the slightest of sounds; the tales and the terror they wreak on our youthful minds never quite leaves us.

We asked the authors in this collection to reach into the forgotten recesses of their twisted minds and share with us the tales of nightmares that can only thrive in the hidden corners of a child’s imaginings; the bogeyman under the bed, the outlandishly fiendish creature lurking in the dark, the slight murmur of sound coming from the hall… did you close the door completely?

Explore the myriad terrors that only a child can twist from nothing into some ‘thing’ in the span of a single rapid breath. Do you dare delve into your own memories? Perhaps you’ll start sleeping with the lights on again…

Tell us, who is Under the Bed?

Contributing Authors:  Colin F. Barnes, Nina D’Arcangela, Phil Hickes, Amber Keller, Kim Krodel, Lisamarie Lamb, John McIlveen, Kate Monroe, Brandon Scott, Joshua Skye, Julianne Snow, and Jack Wallen

To purchase a copy of this anthology, please visit:
Print book: Amazon.com, CreateSpace.com
eBook: Amazon.com, Amazon.uk, Amazon.de, Amazon.fr, Amazon.es, Amazon.it
Smashwords.com (Kindle, Nook, Kobo, Sony, PDF)

www.SirensCallPublications.com


Excerpts of three of the short stories found in “Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed”,
plus a link to a free downloadable preview from all twelve authors below:

‘Bent Metal’ – Nina D’Arcangela
     “I’m now in full blown panic mode racing down the stairs to the echoing sound of the police dispatcher screaming into the phone “stay in the house – don’t go near the corner!”
I hit the front hall and see that the door is wide open… oh, God please, oh please, oh  no… don’t let Alan be out there, please let the door be open for some other reason – maybe mom or dad went out to help, please let that be it.
     I’m only three houses from the corner; three houses from the wreckage in the street; three houses from my own sanity shattering…. The second my bare foot leaves the safety of the house and hits the front porch I know something is horribly wrong. Somehow I know its Alan, and he’s in trouble.
     The dread that overcomes me is suffocating. I can hardly breathe as I try to run towards the street… but my legs feel like I’m running in quick sand. I’m moving as hard and as fast as I can, but the corner may as well be a mile away in my distorted perception.
     Oh God! My head is spinning as fast as my legs are churning, someone is screaming – I think it might be me! Finally I make it to the corner and see what an unholy mess of tangled metal the two vehicles that couldn’t avoid each other have become…”

 

‘Timothy’ – Joshua Skye
     “Quivering from fear, her teeth rattling in her little head, hands trembling, she stared into the deep darkness to catch any movement; the twinkling of an eye perhaps. Anything to let her know where he was, out there in the darkness. There was nothing for a long time.
     “Where are you?” she muttered in a squeaky voice. Something moved in her peripheral vision. She turned. Fast, but not fast enough. Perhaps it was nothing more than a shadow that had just blended with the dark. “Timothy, you stop it. You stop it right now.” She tried to sound like her mother, to mimic her authoritative tone, but it hadn’t worked. Her voice had cracked and it trembled with her apprehension. “I know it’s you,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
She started to cry, she couldn’t help it. Her tears streamed down her tiny face and there was a lump forming in her throat. She had to fight to swallow; she had to fight to breathe.
     Timothy began to mock her. “Timothy, please. Stop it, Timothy! Go away, Timothy.” The sinister, scratchy voice seemed to come from everywhere, the shadows, the darkness, under the desk, from behind the stuffed animals, under the bed…”

 

‘Baby Teeth’  – Kim Krodel
“She adds every tooth she gets to her disgusting smile.  But the screws keep growing out of her gums.  She never runs out of space for more teeth.”
     “Why does she want them?”  Brian’s voice was small.  His eyes bugged, as if the skeletons stacked in God’s closet were tumbling out at his feet.
     “For biting, Dummy.  She likes to eat little kids.”  Cal grinned as he spoke.  “If she bites you with her screws, your skin gets stuck to ‘em, so she likes teeth better; so she doesn’t have to floss so much.”
     “No, she doesn’t.  She’s nice—she gives presents!  Mom said!”
     “That’s what Mom wants you to think.  Otherwise you’d freak out about it.”
     Brian blinked, staring and processing; weighing his brother’s words against those he had gathered from adults.
     “See this?”  Cal rolled up a pant leg to reveal a jagged run of lumpy, silver skin.  “She bit me hard the first tooth I lost ‘cause I didn’t know what was coming.  Now I’m big enough to fight her off.”  Calvin posed like a weight-lifter…”

Please visit the Sirens Call Publications web site for an extended preview available for download.

Interview with Hunter Shea, author of Evil Eternal

Hey Hunter, welcome to my blog – it is a pleasure to have you here for this interview.

JP: I read on your blog that Evil Eternal was originally intended as a graphic novel and not a full-length literary piece.  How did it go from one incarnation to the other? Do you think you’ll ever create a graphic novel in support of the book? (and if you do, sign me up as the first to grab a copy!)

HS: I grew up both a horror and a huge comic book fan. Back when Evil Eternal was a fledgling idea in the dark recesses of my brain, I wanted to find a way to combine my two passions, and I thought the characters of the undead Father Michael and the demonic Cain would be the perfect vehicles. I wrote a couple of short stories, then fleshed it out a bit more and a good friend started some wicked cool artwork. But, life and other responsibilities derailed the idea. I was still hooked on the story, though, so I kept at it until it was a novella. When Samhain showed interest, I was so jazzed that I wanted to add more to the story to expand on it and make it even more sinister. I would love, love, love to see this as a comic. You’ll see that the writing and pacing is very much designed with a graphic comic mentality. If anyone’s interested, call me!

JP: The imagery you’ve woven of the stranger in the fig grove in your excerpt is magnificently done.  Can we expect to read more of the same throughout the book, or does the stranger become a more violent and aggressive being?

HS: That beginning chapter was one of the newer additions to Evil Eternal. I wanted to give some back story to the villain, Cain. He’s a complete badass who gets progressively empowered and violent as the story progresses. He is trying to unleash hell on earth, after all. Cain also has a wicked, dry humor about him, adding a bit of flare to the mayhem. He’s in direct contrast with Father Michael who is a tortured, but committed soul.

JP: The cover art for the novel is spectacular! Do you conceptualize your own artwork for the book?

HS: When I saw the cover, I was blown away. Samhain has a fantastic art department. They worked with me on getting the spirit of the book and asked for ideas on how I felt it should look. But in the end, it’s in the hands of the artist. They totally nailed it. If you look at the Samhain website, you’re going to see some of the best cover art in the genre. Yet another reason I’m thrilled to be part of the family.

JP: Monster Men Podcast – “Monster Men Hunter Shea and Jack Campisi take on all things horror with their special brand of graveyard humor.” The podcasts are great; I really enjoy the casual conversational tone between you and Jack Campisi.  How did you guys decide this was something you wanted to do, and how do you go about picking the topic for each episode? And I have to ask, Hunter, but I’m sure you’ve gotten this before…whose (ahem) purse is hanging in the background of the later episodes? Hey, I’m making no assumptions here, I’m just asking lol…

HS: Jack and I used to work together, and what you see on the Monster Men is a normal conversation that we would have in the office or the bar. We have the same mind-set when it comes to horror, and for years we kept saying, “We should really do a show where we just ramble on about horror and have some fun.” We talk about topics a few days before we film, but a lot of it is just flying by the seat of our pants. We’ll shoot several episodes in a day and we like to cover a current topic, a classic and make sure we throw in a monster or two. There’s a running joke about how often we get the facts wrong, but Jack always corrects us in post-production. Glad you noticed the pocketbook. Jack just can’t let it out of his sight. Hahaha! Actually, it belongs to my daughter (who made an appearance in an episode). Sometimes we hang my straw hat up there to cover it, but what the hell. We like it when people notice some of the out of place things around us.

JP: What’s up next for Hunter Shea? Anything new in the works at the moment?  And how are you juggling that along with your promo’s for Evil Eternal?

HS: I’m very excited that Evil Eternal has risen and will be promoting my tail off for the rest of the year. My first book, Forest of Shadows, hasn’t even been out for a year, so I’m still in ghost mode with that one as well. Right now, I’m finishing up a novel that is a sequel to Forest of Shadows but can be read as a standalone. Really ratcheting up the ghosts and scares with that one. That should be out next spring. I’m also working on a novella that deals with a well known monster in a very, very different way. With luck, that will be out this fall. And then it’s onto the next novel, which my subconscious is currently keeping a secret from me.


Evil Eternal
by Hunter Shea

The demon leapt into the air, mouth and arms wide open, attempting to land on the priest and tear him to shreds. Father Michael rolled to his left, yanked the trident from the dried husk of the girl-beast, and hurled it at the demon. One of the trio of blades caught it in the base of its neck, shattering it to bits of ragged flesh and bone. An orb of gold light exploded from its skull before it dropped onto the floor, lifeless.

The impaled demon was still wriggling to get free and shrieking like a prehistoric swine. Only a blade with the exorcist’s engraving could free Joseph Carron from his demonic imprisonment. Slowly, he limped to him, retrieving a crucifix from the floor.

“God be with you, you are free,” he said before plunging it into his deformed chest.

He spent several moments staring at the desiccated corpse. Tonight had been proof that it had been too long since his last encounter with the likes of this mayhem. There was a time when he had an army behind him in the fight against such evil. Now, only madmen would believe such a thing truly existed. Evil had become a fairy tale, something you told the kids to scare them into doing the right thing. What was in this barn was the stuff of make-believe, the dementia of uncivilized man.

Turning to go back outside to his gunnysack with the necessary tools for his next task, Father Michael was caught square in the chest by a flying pitchfork. The force of it lifted him off his feet and nailed him to a wooden post.

He howled in agony. Syrupy rivers of blood seeped from the wounds. The pitchfork had hit him so hard his feet were inches off the ground. He was too weak to even grab the handle and free himself.

The sound of measured clapping distracted him from the extreme pain.

A man in his early forties with salt-and-pepper hair and a workman’s build descended slowly from the rafters like a feather. He smiled when he saw the impaled priest.

“An excellent performance, if I do say so myself, Father Michael.”

His voice had a distinguished lilt. He softly touched down on the ground and approached Father Michael.

Despite the white-hot agony that now rippled through his chest, Father Michael’s rage grew.

He was here. The dark master’s favorite minion, the cursed one banished to walk the earth for eternity, a carrier of blight and misery.

Cain had returned.

***

Evil Eternal is available at:
Amazon ; Barnes & Noble ; Samhain


About Hunter Shea

I’m the product of a childhood weened on The Night Stalker, The Twilight Zone and In Search Of. Luckily, I’ve managed to make a love of all things ghostly and beastly into a career. It’s nice not to have to write for free anymore.

I’ve published several books and a slew of horror short stories over the years in magazines like Dark Moon Digest, Morpheus Tales, The Harrow, Tabard Inn, Deadline  & Ethereal Tales, just to name a few. My latest novel, Forest of Shadows, is available through  Samhain Publishing  and their new horror line. Evil Eternal, what’s been desribed as Gran Guignol at its best and bloodiest, will be available in May 2012.

I’m also proud to be be one half of the Monster Men podcast, where my partner in crime Jack Campisi and I talk about all things horror with our own, sarcastic twist. All horror and no humor makes Hunter and Jack dull boys.

Feel free to contact me any time at huntershea1@gmail.com. Writing is lonely work.

Blog: www.huntershea.com
Twitter : @huntershea1
Facebook : http://www.facebook.com/huntershea1

Pen of the Damned…you have found us


Enter.

Sit before the Tale Weaver.

You are now in the presence of the Damned. Within these pages, an eclectic gathering of dark writers and poets. Each a distinct voice. Each a bent mind. Each a tortured soul. Here, the fabric of reality twirls round our malevolent fingers. Here, light comes to die.

Our world is beautifully charred compared to your own. Beneath your polish lies our rust. Beneath your glory exists our taint.

We hide not behind masks. We cringe not from the raw. The Damned speak truths you dare not utter. The Damned expose all you shamefully hide.

Indulge upon our sanguine prose. Bloat with our anguished muse. Exalt in our blatant gluttony. You deserve it all. For the Damned are merely reflections of yourself, and portraits do not lie.

No longer are these your safe surroundings.  Eternally damned you shall now be.

Until we choose to summon you again…be gone.

So the Tale Weaver speaks.

www.penofthedamned.com

Follow us.  Be damned.

Interview with Armand Rosamilia, author of Dying Days 2

JP: Before I get started Armand, I have to tell you it’s a good feeling to have a fellow New Jersey horror writer aboard.  But I understand you’re a resident of Florida now.  What does the Sunshine State have that the Garden State doesn’t, and does it serve as an influence to your writing itself?

AR: Florida serves me well right now because the Dying Days series is set here in Florida, around the St. Augustine area. I like Florida, like not shoveling snow, but I’ll always be a Jersey boy. My roots are there, my attitude is still from there, and I miss it.

JP: Don’t give away the goods, man, but tell me about Dying Days 2.

AR: OK, here’s the surprise ending for it… actually, it’s a continuation of Dying Days, with Darlene Bobich still the main focus, but a few old friends and new characters get some of the spotlight as well. I wanted to make it fresh and not just rehash everything that happened in Dying Days. There are still zombies trying to kill and violate you, but Darlene and friends have so many other problems as well.

JP:  So why doesn’t it end with Dying Days?

AR: There was more story to tell. Originally the idea was to be a stand-alone book like Highway To Hell was (the actual first novella in the Dying Days world), but I didn’t want to neatly tie up all loose ends in the last few chapters and be done with it. I thought it would look rushed. Now my mind is open for endless possibilities.

JP: A little gremlin told me Dying Days 3 could be in the works.  Is it true, Armand, or was the critter guilty of eating too much after midnight?

AR: Don’t get him wet! Yes, eventually that storyline will be expanded on, that’s a given. Thanks to this blog tour and so many great responses for Dying Days 2, there has to be at least one more. In the meantime, I’m working on Still Dying: Select Scenes From Dying Days, which will be 13 short stories featuring some characters from Dying Days 2 in prequels as well as a couple of new characters that might eventually turn up.

JP: Your main character is Darlene Bobich.  How does a cute and fluffy chick turn into a gun-toting bad-ass?  How natural was it for you from the beginning to write your protagonist as a woman?

AR: The first time I wrote her was just a flash fiction piece and didn’t think anything more about her. But then a zombie short story needed a lead and she was there. She’s normal, and that’s what I like about her. She still has panic attacks, still cries, and still wears her emotions on her sleeve.

JP: Darlene runs around with a Desert Eagle.  You have to tell me at least how she winds up with such a wicked piece.

AR: She’s trained to shoot a Desert Eagle only because her dad worked in the factory that made them in Maine and gave it to her and the skills to use it. My fiancé Kim’s dad (and the inspiration for Murph in the Dying Days books) has one and showed it to me. I’m not into guns but research for future books is fun, and it just looked bad-ass.

JP: You’ve written more than your share of Undead books.  Where does the love come from, Armand?

AR: The Rising by Brian Keene made me realize you can write unique zombie fiction, and my love of zombie films growing up. I now read as many zombie stories as I can find.

JP: Congratulations!  I’ve read that Reality’s Edge Film has optioned rights to do a film release of Dying Days!  How did that come about?

AR: Jeff Freeman did a film called Island of the Cannibal Death Gods, an homage to those great 80′s horror films we grew up on. One of the actors, Steve Brack, happens to be the best friend of Kim. We got to talking, I got in contact with Jeff, we hit it off, he read and loved Dying Days, and we worked out an option for the film. I’m currently writing the first draft of the screenplay this month.

JP: Do you have anything else in the works with Rymfire Books?

AR: Always. Undead Tales 2 zombie anthology should be out by the time you read this, and I have Carl R. Moore’s Slash of Crimson horror novella coming soon, as well as continuing the State of Horror series, and whatever else I can finish up and get edited and ready for sale. I’m always busy.

JP: Alright,  I’m one of the big publishing houses…give me your best pitch and tell me why I can’t afford to pass on Dying Days 2.

AR: Think there’s nothing new to say about zombies? Sick of the tried and true (but boring) survivor stories, surrounded by undead with no escape? Sink your teeth into Dying Days, an extreme zombie series where they don’t want to just bite you… they want to violate you. Soon to be a Disney film… (OK, I’d maybe not pitch that last line)…

JP: Armand, it’s been great having you aboard.  Good luck to you, Dying Days 2 and all your current and future works! 


Free Book Give-away From Armand

Want to know more about the “Dying Days” series? Want to win free eBooks and maybe print books of them? My contest is simple: e-mail me at armandrosamilia (at) gmail (dot) com with DYING DAYS in the subject line and I’ll enter you into the daily giveaway… also, post a comment here and you get another chance… follow my blog at http://armandrosamilia.com for yet another chance, and friend me on Twitter (@ArmandAuthor) and simply post DYING DAYS to me, and you’ll get another shot… nice and easy, right? If I get enough people joining in the giveaway there will be a print book given away that day!

“Dying Days” series information can be found here:

http://armandrosamilia.com/dying-days-series/

Who are they, and what do they want?

damned

1: to condemn to a punishment or fate; especially : to condemn to hell
2a: to condemn vigorously and often irascibly for some real or fancied fault or defect <damned the storm for their delay>
b: to condemn as a failure by public criticism
3: to bring ruin on
4: to swear at : curse—often used to express annoyance, disgust, or surprise <damn him, he should have been careful> <I’ll be damned>
5: a group of writers sworn to their sufferings
…they are coming…

Interview with Julianne Snow, author of Days with the Undead: Book One

It’s my pleasure to introduce you to Julianne Snow, author of the new book, ‘Days with the Undead: Book One.’

JP: Okay, Julianne, straight out of the gate: why zombies?

JS: Why not Zombies? They’re fun (in a weird sort of way). However, on a more serious note, I find Zombies to be remarkably more terrifying than any of the other supernatural creatures that are in literary and cinematic existence today. Zombies are the monsters that characterize the aspects of humanity to the greatest degree. By chance or design, the monster’s face that looks back at you is one that is so similar to your own. That sends chills down my spine.

JP: I see that you pen an online blog by the same title.  Is there a difference between book and blog?  Is the blog meant to be a companion to the book, and is there additional insight to be gained by reading it?

JS: I wrote Days with the Undead as a book initially. Not knowing what to do with it as a new author who had never self-published, I decided to try it out as an online serial novel. I edited out parts of the first draft that didn’t belong and started publishing one chapter (or day) each night. Once I reached the end of where the first draft left off, I continued the story. Book One only contains a portion of the story that is currently on the web but also has additional material that I didn’t have time to add into the serial or aspects that looking back on it six months after it was first made available, I wanted to add. Book One ends on the thirty-first day of their struggle but the web serial has one hundred and sixty-nine days (though there are gaps built into the timeline for a reason). As for added material, when I went back into Book One, with the additions there was approximately thirty percent more moments with the Undead mixed with stories of survival.

JP: So your book is “A Journey of Survival.”  Are you one? (a survivalist, that is!)  Am I correct in assuming you enjoy writing that aspect of the zombie horror genre as opposed to the blood and guts?

JS: I’m not sure that I would call myself specifically a survivalist but I have learned quite a lot about it. I live within thirty kilometers of a nuclear power plant (that’s just outside the blast zone radius). Most people that live close to them don’t think much about it since they feel that power plants are safe. The reason that it makes me worry is that Toronto was built on top of a fault line, not an active one like the ones under California but we feel a rumble every once in a while. Is there a possibility that an apocalyptic event could happen close to home? Heck yes! I have my plan just in case anything happens and the first thing I plan on doing is getting out at the first whisper that something is going down. No need to wait around until it gets really bad.

I wouldn’t say that I enjoy writing the survival aspect more than the blood and guts. I’ve found that the psychological aspect is something that is missing in a lot of the works in the genre I’ve read so I admit to wanting to tackle that myself a little more in-depth. Don’t get me wrong there are some moments in Days with the Undead that are gruesome, but at times I prefer the less is more approach. You miss out on the impact of a well-placed gruesome moment if they’re all gruesome.

JP: Zombie apocalypse starts in 3…2…1… What are you hitting the road with and share with my readers, while you still have your sanity intact, what your plan is.

JS: I’d be hitting the road with a few protein bars and some water, duct tape and some waterproof matches. I don’t have a weapon like a gun but I do have some gardening implements that I would be packing into the car. It’s light I know, but I’d prefer to get out of the city before people start to panic. Once out of the city, I’d make a stop in one of the smaller communities and stock up with items that I feel would be useful. If I move fast enough, people in the outlying areas are less likely to be panicked. After I load myself up a little more, I’m going to head north and find an area with a low population density. Most people are not going to escape the cities and if they do, they’re likely to go east or west, not north; or not as far north as I’m prepared to go. As for my sanity, I think that’s the one thing I’ll retain. I might not like what is going on around me but my brain works from an analytical perspective and that may mean the difference between survival and death.

JP: So you’re out there in the thick of the zombie apocalypse…do you think our medical and military agencies will be as prepared as you?

JS: That’s a hard question to answer as they will be travelling into the fray and I’ll be travelling out of it. The military works on a specific model of authority with orders being given by superior officers. If there is even one non-believer at the top, it could translate into the deaths of increasingly large numbers of innocent people. This is an enemy that they would never have faced before and while the world does have suicide bombers and kamikaze pilots, there is nothing akin to the Undead as they push ever forward. They’re not going to be scared by the guns trained on them; they don’t carry the emotion of fear anymore. If, and it’s a big if, the military gives the front lines the ability to think for themselves and make decisions based on the situation they are facing, they might have a chance to get things under control. What are the odds of that happening? Slim to none and with that being said, they may be prepared to fight, but they will be ineffective. The medical staff are going to have a very hard time of it should the Undead rise. You cannot be on the front lines in a war such as that, treating possibly infected people and not end up dead. The best bet for medical personnel is to head for the hills like the rest of us. The situation is going to be hard to control and could go south at any time; medical personnel are only going to clog things up and likely join the army of the Undead themselves.

JP: Your journalistic style of writing is a very calm outlook on the situation.  Do you think the public falls into shambles and turns against its fellow man?

JS: I wouldn’t say that it’s an entirely calm outlook as there are moments that are stressful. The difference is that you only have the perspective of one person and that person comes from an analytical background. She is used to dealing with violence and has developed a coping mechanism that helps her to detach and get things done. I do think that the public is going to panic and do crazy things – there are many moments where that is evident throughout Days with the Undead. In the days that continue after the first book ends, you begin to see just how much society has fallen and how quickly those that are still alive want to retain some normalcy. control and could go south at any time; medical personnel are only going to clog things up and likely join the army of the Undead themselves.

JP: Zombies are everywhere, baby! What’s the most important thing you personally need?  Anything sentimental in case you survive?

JS: The most important thing that you need to survive is the mindset to do so. If you keep yourself and your mind in the game, not letting anyone or anything get in your way, you’ve got a good chance. As for a personal memento – I have my memories; those are all that I can afford to take with me.

Playing devil’s advocate here: you become a zombie.  Have you taken any precautionary measures in case you become one of the Undead?  Maybe you’ve told a loved one shoot to kill, no questions asked?

JS: If I was bitten and had the strength to do so, I would put myself out of the misery that was going to follow. If I couldn’t do it myself, I would have someone else do it for me prior to me returning as one of the Undead. No way am I walking the earth as a Zombie!

JP: Listen Julianne, it’s been a treat sharing my blog with you.  But I’m going to push the envelope a little.  Any chance offering an excerpt to tease my readers with?

JS: Sure thing! Just a little something to whet your appetite:

The pirates were smart, I’ll give them that. Instead of staying together, they split up and tried to box us in. It probably would have worked except for the fact that they had no idea who they were dealing with. As we came up on C Street, one of the men was waiting for us. Just standing in the middle of the road. He probably thought we’d stop like last time…

A word of advice. Don’t play chicken during an Apocalypse. Chances are, you’ll end up dead.

One down, six idiots still in play.

A second outlaw came running into the intersection at William Street. When he saw us he started throwing out fire, still running forward. Now I realize that there may not have been a course on how to use these weapons properly but at some point common sense had to prevail. The only thing this dimwit succeeding in doing was running into his own flame and setting himself on fire.

Two down, five left.


Days with the Undead: Book One:

It’s a journal of survival…

Five people set out to escape the Undead who have risen too close to home. Join the emotional and physical struggle as they began on the third day after the awakening of Brooks VanReit, as they are recorded from the point of view of Julie, a former pathologist and part-time survivalist.

Each entry is geared toward helping those who want to help themselves and maybe give a few that don’t a swift kick in the ass. Join our group of survivors on their journey through these Days with the Undead.

Available in both print and digital formats.

Print:
CreateSpace
Amazon

Digital:
Smashwords
Amazon US
Amazon UK; Amazon DE; Amazon FR; Amazon ES; Amazon IT


 About the Author

It was watching Romero’s Night of the Living Dead at the tender age of six that solidified Julianne Snow’s respect of the Undead. Since that day, she has been preparing herself for the (inevitable) Zombie Apocalypse. While classically trained in all of the ways to defend herself, she took up writing in order to process the desire she now covets; to bestow a second and final death upon the Undead. As the only girl growing up in a family with four children in the Canadian countryside, Julianne needed some form of escape. Her choice was the imaginations of others which only fostered the vibrancy of her own.

Days with the Undead: Book One is her first full-length book, the basis of which can be found in her popular web serial of the same name. You can find Julianne’s The Living Dead of Penderghast Manor in the anthology Women of the Living Dead and stories in upcoming anthologies called Childhood Nightmares: Under The Bed and Twisted Realities: Of Myth and Monstrosity from Sirens Call Publications.

Social Media Links:
Twitter: @CdnZmbiRytr
Facebook: Julianne Snow
FB Fan Page: Days with the Undead
Goodreads: Julianne Snow
Blogs: Days with the Undead & The FlipSide of Julianne

The Light and the Dark

If you follow my blog, you may have noticed I haven’t posted much lately.  I have a damn good reason.

The light and the dark.

The duality of human consciousness.  The core of existence.  The perfect balance within us all.

Or is it?

I started my blog tiptoeing that delicate balance between the light and the dark.  Prudent in presenting the more polished side of my character and virtue.  You’ve read it in the posts about my own father and daughter.  The unique spin I employ sharing my world.  My thoughts.  But dare I shamefully admit I have not been honest.

Would you believe me if I told you amidst that superficial harmony drummed the glorious cadence of a heart void of all pigment and tone…a terrible absence of all you have ever come to know.  Something beyond that which the sun can touch.  Something far more gluttonous than the gloam.

Something that has taken notice.

You might have seen it.  It has appeared, fleetingly, within my pages.  And always…always…I have restrained it.  Even as its choker rubbed raw my bleeding hands.

Within all of us exists the light and the dark.

For some, there is something far worse in between.

I haven’t posted much lately.  I have a damned good reason.

Pen of the Damned.

They are coming…

So the Tale Weaver speaks.

West Coast Masquerade

Writing my blog is a bit of a trick.  Like a magician, I employ smoke & mirrors.  Not that I’m attempting to mislead you.  No, not by a longshot.  But more often than not, I fill the pages of my horror blog with anything but horror.  I’ve mentioned before that I’m trying to strike the right balance of some story excerpts here or there, or possibly even a flash fiction piece written especially for my blog (much like my flash piece “Judge” in my previous post).  You guys know I’m uncomfortable “selling” myself, yet I have to push to do just that.

Here’s the thing…something I’m beginning to hear more often - and that’s that you think I’m different.  Well, I’m different in my approach.  I want you to slowly grow to know me.  Me.  The man.  If there’s anything to learn from me, anything to remember, it’s this: I’m not a one trick pony.  I don’t want you to have the horror.  I want you to have the man.  And only then will the horror be yours…

I wrote this song some time ago.  Spoke with a friend of mine who was having some relationship issues.  The man she was involved with was anything but involved with her.  By her accounts, he treated her very poorly, yet she felt powerless to do a thing.  We’ve all been there, haven’t we?  In some form or another?  I know I have.

I gave her the best advice I could.  That’s what friends do.  But I hurt for her.  I sat down one night & penned this with the thought of giving her some empowerment from afar.  Needless to say, one must choose one’s own course of action.  I’ll never speak ill of my friend.  She chose to keep the guy.

But I got to keep the song…

West Coast Masquerade

How could this happen again

How could he do this again, she asks

all alone

She’s all alone.

She won’t go though this again

Won’t stick this through to the end

all alone

She’s all alone.

So she straightens out her makeup

and paints the smile back on her face

Rehearses the words she’s going to tell him

Rehearses the way she’s going to say

I’m throwing you back where you belong

I’m throwing you back where you belong

to your callous pals and their snobby gals

I’m through with this west coast masquerade.

I’m throwing you back where you belong

Back where you belong

to your momma’s side where you always hide

I’m through with this west coast masquerade.

She bears the mileage from home

Yet he’s never made her feel home, she knows

all alone

She’s all alone.

So she straightens out her makeup

 and paints the smile back on her face

Rehearses the words she’s going to tell him

Rehearses the way she’s going to say

I’m throwing you back where you belong

I’m throwing you back where you belong

 to your callous pals and their snobby gals

I’m through with this west coast masquerade.

Cause I’m throwing you back where you belong

Back where you belong

to your momma’s side where you always hide

I’m through with this west coast masquerade.

So she straightens out her makeup

and paints the smile back on her face

Tonight’s the night she’ll finally leave him

Tonight’s the night she’ll finally say

I’m throwing you back where you belong

I’m throwing you back where you belong

with your rolling eyes and your alibis

I’m so done with this west coast masquerade.

Cause I’m throwing you back where you belong

Back where you belong

to your callous pals and their snobby gals

 I’m through with this west coast masquerade.

I’m through with this west coast masquerade.

I’m over this west coast masquerade.

Copyright © 2012 Joseph A. Pinto – All Rights Reserved.

“JUDGE,” flash fiction for The Day The Sun Stopped Shining Blog Tour 2011

THE DAY THE SUN STOPPED SHINING BLOG TOUR 2011

Enter.

Sit before the Tale Weaver.

On this cold & stormy night, yuletide greetings I do not impart.  Shan’t be the bells of Saint Nicholas you hear echoing in the dark corner of night, nor shall the sweet chorus of cherub-faced children serenade at your door.  Tuck yourself into bed, friend, and be mindful to pull the covers tight, for down your chimney plummets the damned, and I absolve myself of any nefarious visions that may dance in your head.  Now read my yarn and scrawl your comments at its conclusion.  Five names will be picked, five unlucky souls who shall receive two signed copies each of Flowers for Evelene and Dusk and Summer.  Be sure to leave your email address and/or Twitter name so that the dead may contact you.  Aye, read my yarn while still you can, for tomorrow the sun stops shining, and erelong gloam shall rule the land.

Godspeed, friend.  Now be gone.

So the Tale Weaver speaks.

“JUDGE”

Steady hand.  Fluid wrist.

He commences, conducting an orchestra of pain across flesh.  Razor twinkles.  Nary a wince.

Slash Slash Slash

Rinse.  Repeat.

Torrid water singes skin.  Crimson rivulets streak throat.  Razor kisses flesh again; long unhurried strokes abuse corporeal canvas.  Pauses.  Countenance he measures within warped polished metal anchored into wall.  Glimpses little.  Save distorted haze of ruined reflection.  He smiles.

Good.

Slash Slash Slash

Rinse.  Repeat.

Water murky within stainless steel sink.  Chunky with gore.  He has no business dipping fingers into scorching bath.  No business doing anything at all.  Beyond unforgiving bars of his cell swells heinous cacophony.  Thunder low and throaty upon hollows of the valley.  But this is not thunder.  This is anguish.  This is hopelessness.  So delectable.

This is hell.

Swirls razor into steaming mess.  Watches idly frothy, bloody rings cling to sides.  Ruined tissue.  Barely audible, a squeak from behind.  “Are you afraid?” he deadpans.  Interest seized by serumy whirlpool churning within sink’s bowel.

Scampering.  Feet seeking purchase.  Harried breaths.

“You shouldn’t be afraid.”  Razor to flesh.  Skin yields in neat flaps.  Fine meat under honed slicing blade.  “Not yet, anyway.  Didn’t I tell you this would happen?  I did tell you, didn’t I?”

Outside the bars, wails.  Chaos.  Lunacy.  Choked voices plead mercy.  Invoke God.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure I told you.”  Air trembles.  Ripples with disorder.  Sniffs air, he does.  As canine, no.  No.  Inhales as predator.  Bite of sulfur.  Copper.  Sickly sweet in throat.  Delicious these nuances of suffering.  “Yes, thinking about it now, I’m absolutely positive that I told you.”

Pops from beyond.  Another, deafening, just down the hall.  Again, a whimper from behind.  “It’s rare when one holds steadfast about something.  Very rare.  Take personal belief, for example.”  Razor to jaw.  So steady, hand.  So fluid, wrist.

Plop.  Plop.  Plop.  Chunks plummet to sink.

Slash Slash Slash

“I believed this day would come for a long, long time.  I’d have bet my life on it.”  Long strokes.  Graceful.  Measured mutilation.  Rinse goes the razor.  Plunk goes the flesh.  “No, no.  I stand corrected.  Can I do that?  Can I correct something already said?  Why, I suppose so, if I’m the one doing the saying.  So no, I would not have bet my life on it.  But I would have bet my soul.”  Chuckles.  “Can I share something with you?  You won’t judge me, will you?”

Gunshots once more.  Outside bars.  Just down the hall.  From here.  From there.  From here and there.  Each extracts a strangled sob.  Behind him.  Closer to the floor.  “I don’t like to be judged.  Really, who does?  Did you enjoy it when you were?  In the literal sense of the word, you were judged.  You received, what, nine years?  Already had a few strikes against you, a few prior convictions.  What did you expect?  I’ll tell you what you expected—you expected not to be judged.  Your life was hard.  No proper upbringing.  You expected them to understand.  You expected someone to give a damn.  But instead, you were damned.”

Outside bars, screams for a child.  A boy.  His name rips from father’s mouth.  Wishes to hear it, perhaps, before he dies.

“Yes, I’ve been judged as well.  A long, long time ago.”  Blade to forehead, above brow.  Steady hand.  Fluid wrist.  Left to right.  Left to right.

Slash Slash Slash

Rinse.  Repeat.

Splashes scalding water into eyes.  Rinses free the gore.

“I didn’t like being judged then.  All because I simply saw things…differently.  All because I held firm, positive in my sentiment.”  Teeth clinch.  Snare vicious drawl.  “Judge not lest ye be judged.”

Outside bars, prayer in wild howls.  Fades.  Cloth tears.  Rending fills the void.  Then an awful sound.  Pigs to trough.  Jackal to meat.  Wet.  Slobbery.

“So, yes, I did tell you this day would come.  Yes.  I’m positive now.”  Din deafens.  Maelstrom of degeneration.  Yet one voice heard above all.  “I’ve enjoyed talking to you, by the way.  Enjoyed your company these past few years.  You’ve been a good egg.”

Body slams into bars.  Mangled.  Glistening.  Chewed.

He stares into distorted mirror.  Hand hovers inches from face.  An artist, he applies the finishing touches.  Long, fluid strokes.  Graceful, sweeping curves.  Not much longer.  Not much longer at all.

“Listen, you’ve got nothing to worry from me.  Not a thing.  I will not hurt you.  It’s those animals.  Out there.”  Jerks head in direction of bars.  Ploop ploop ploop the crimson splatters shoulder.  Prison garment soaks.  “Those things, they’re you.  What you see is only yourself.  So look, this will go in one of two ways.  Release your inner self, become them and serve.  Or simply become part of them.  I’ll give you a minute to decide.”

Putrid decay seeps into cowering shadows.  Madness reverberates against walls.  Tang of suffering clots the air.

“Time is up.  Sorry, but I haven’t all day.  Places to go, people to see.  Lots planned.  Bet no one thought the end would ever start here.  I mean, it is a penitentiary, after all.  The monsters are supposed to be on the inside.  But not anymore.”

Razor drops into sink.  “I blame all this on your judge.  He thought he had all the answers.  Problem was that he never asked the questions.  Now it’s too late for that.”

He pirouettes. “He tried to make you into his image.  Aren’t you tired of wearing his mask?  I certainly am.”

And last of face oozes down chest.

“So what’s it going to be, hmm?  A brand new world awaits.”

Start hopping like mad, people!!!!

Johanna K. Pitcairn – The Manicheans http://themanicheans.blogspot.com/

Matthew C Wood – www.sunstoppedshining.wordpress.com/

Micheal Rivers  – Micheal Rivers Blog  http://michealrivers.com/blog/

Axel Howerton – http://www.axelhowerton.com/

Renee Pawlish – http://tobecomeawriter.com/

Andy Holloman – www.andyholloman.com/

Tim Ward – www.timothycward.com/

Tim Ward podcast – www.audiotim.com/

Jason McKinney – http://jasonmckinney.wordpress.com/

Keith Weaver – http://www.aboutkeithweaver.com/dream-weave-blog.html

Andrew Bell – www.flightofman.com/

Davida Green-Norris (Dicey Grenor) – www.diceyblog.wordpress.com/

Rae Lori – http://raelori.blogspot.com/

Marie Harbon – www.marieharbon.com/

Amanda Haulk Taylor – http://www.backwoodsauthor.wordpress.com/

Joseph Pinto -http://josephpinto.wordpress.com/

Julie Jansen – http://juliejansen.blogspot.com/

Kelly DeWitt – Raven c.s. McCracken’s books http://ravencsmccracken.com/

Kim Koning – http://kimkoning.wordpress.com/

Caitlin Hopper – http://caitlin-thefreelancingwriter.blogspot.com/

Alesha Escobar – http://www.aleshaescobar.com/

Marissa Farrar http://www.marissa-farrar.blogspot.com/

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Edward Owen http://dangerunfilteredcontent.wordpress.com/

Georgina Kamsika http://www.kamsika.com/

James L. Hatch http://cookinwithmisshavana.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Edmunds http://www.writersrest.com/

P.R Mason http://agirlwithacomputer.blogspot.com/

Qwantu Amaru http://qwantuamaru.com/

Shelley Workinger http://bookfare.blogspot.com/

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Julia Antione http://juephraime1.blogspot.com/

Charles Jones http://bizzarofiction.blogspot.com/

Michelle Franklin http://thehaanta.blogspot.com/ 

Brian Johnson http://fatherthunder.blogspot.com/

Sheila Lamb http://sheilarlamb.com/

Diane Hartsock http://diannehartsock.wordpress.com/

Eileen Clemens Granfors http://www.authoreileengranfors.blogspot.com/

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