Thursday, November 1, 2018

Halloween Is Over...

Halloween has come and gone and it's soooo sad...

All year I look forward to this day, and before I know it, it's over in 24 hours! What a ripoff! I move that we change this 'single day holiday' into a week long affair... 

Who's with me?



Anywhooooo, we posted our #100WordHorror stories during the first part of October, and I was floored by the badassery of my writing homies. I know a lot of really talented people. That's so crazy for me to say, because, before I met most of my writer friends, I never had anyone to talk to about any of my creative endeavors.

You guys know that talking about writing to non-writers is like asking them to help you watch paint dry: they're just not into it.😩 But, such as life... Even though the normies don't write stories, we still love them, well,,,, most of them😜.

Anyway, because I didn't get to post on Halloween (I was too tired from work, and I'm not gonna lie, I was binge watching Chuck🙄), I'd like to share the first chapter of my new book with y'all.




Here's some stats on the project so far:

Title: "The Seed"
MC: Grayson/ Greyson Nowak
(In the prologue, Professor Daughtery is my main character)
Genre: Really? You have to ask? All the lols...
Page count (So far): 89

Okay, without further ado, here's the first chapter of... 


Thursday, October 18, 2018

#100WordHorror ★ Avrin Kelly

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When I was a kid, my brother, Jack, always used to peep under my door at night. It wasn't anything pervy, I figured he just wanted to snitch on me for sitting in my closet reading by flashlight after bedtime.

My parents and I shared a wall and they would argue most nights, so, I always knew where they were in the house. It's hard to lose track of two people when they're screaming at each other. 

when we moved into a smaller house, I learned the truth. 

My parents were fighting one night and my brother and I now had to share a room. I realized it wasn't Jack peeping under my door. 

It never had been.★


AK


Wednesday, October 17, 2018

#100WordHorror ★ Marc Tizura

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“Who sent you?”

The Crone that lorded over him demanded in a high-pitched quivery voice. He would have answered, but the Crone had ripped out his tongue and ate it before his eyes. 

“Tastes as sweet as candy, so it does,” The Crone announced with a witch’s cackle.

He opened his mouth to protest a flow of red life water came gushing, as did the only sound he could now make: a moaning cry. 

This sound drew on more cackles from the cartoonish hag that stood over him. He was told to stay away from the house on Crone Hill, and now, to his horror, he was finding out why. 

She racked her long jagged nails down his bare chest peeling up bits of skin which she quickly tore off and ate. He howled in agony; a watery choking noise which immediately drew more cackles from her. 

“Don’t have an answer? Well, don’t worry I will remake you, my sweet. You’ll be one of my dolls like all the others who have trespassed my hill.” The Crone whispered in his ear, her hot breath on his cheek.

In a flash, she clawed out his eyes. 

He let loose a howl as she cackled. Before the pain took him to the land of unconscious darkness where he would stay, he thought he saw a vision of a dark tower in a field of roses somewhere.★    


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Marc Tizura is a published author. His debut novel was The Man from Grenin

He is also an actor and is the host of an awesome and always entertaining hashtag game on Twitter #tfteotw, which stands for "Tales From The End of The World". If ever you feel like playing, tune in to his YouTube channel and watch out for his weekly video prompts where he explains how to play.

Marc lives in Chicago, but don't worry, you can catch him on social media here:



Twitter (@areyouingrenin
Last but not least, don't forget to pop in and visit Marc's blog: MarcTizura.wordpress.com 


Tuesday, October 16, 2018

#100WordHorror ★ S.A. Thurtle

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The candle light threw a warmth to his skin but not so warm as the glow cast by her love. Only a week in and she couldn’t get enough. His hypnotic blue eyes, full lips and that smile?

The man she dreamed of. 

And tonight? Tonight, she would give herself to him. Completely.

He tilted his head, brows furrowed in askance of her silence. 

“Sorry, I got lost. I… I just love your face.” She breathed the words, leaning in to kiss his lips.

He laughed with cold, rancid breath. “And I love how you think this face is mine.”★




calligraphy-fonts S.A. Thurtle is writer, blogger and freelancer wordsmith. Native of the UK, an exciting series of life choices and random chance now sees him living in The Netherlands. There’s probably a book in that turn of events alone. 

He’s working on three different novels spanning fantasy, sci-fi and… the other one. He will finish one at some point. Honest.

Until that glorious day, you can find blogs and short stories on his website here: https://sathurtle.com  or keep up to date with his random musing on Twitter: https://twitter.com/sathurtle or Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sathurtle/ .

Saturday, October 13, 2018

#100WordHorror ★ SilverFox

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The day started typically enough, it was my first day off of three. I had just gotten up and was headed for my first cup of coffee and a cigarette.  

Fresh, hot, coffee! I can't think of a better way to start my day.  

The morning was lovely and the sun was already shining, so I decided to step out on my back porch and enjoy the fresh air. When I opened the door I was very surprised to see the skull of a dog, I believe, sitting on my bench looking straight at me.  

It was obvious that someone had placed it there intentionally. I really wasn't quite sure how to take this at first so I decided I needed to call my sister (she is a practicing witch) and ask her how she felt about it.  

Her first question was: “Does it have a gris bag attached?” I told her it didn't, and she told me that I really didn't have anything to worry about - it was probably just someone reaching out to me.  

I really wasn't sure about who had offered this to me, but I accepted it as a gift and decided to go about my business. 

I doubt I will ever know who really sent it, but I have never felt there was any ill-will attached.★


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This true story was written by my wonderful mother aka SilverFox. SilverFox lives in Houston, Texas and she is a strong, sweet woman with wild hair, kind eyes and more magic in her blood than most. 

Although SilverFox is not a practicing Witch, it is apparent (to me) that she certainly could be if she wanted to. Some people have an easier walk with nature than others (and my mom and aunt are blessed with that gift).

SilverFox is not a "writer" (as she tells me often enough), but I was able to convince her to put this story down on paper for Wicked Shorts. This is the first time she's ever written a story, and I'm so proud of her!!!😍💜 


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Writer. Author. Blogger. Procrastinator... My novel, Trigram, is in the works, but in the meantime, I'll probably be working on short stories such as the ones on Wicked Shorts. (Wink)

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