Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Excerpt: A Ghost?


"Old Pa was awakened by the sound of a woman’s voice. When he looked, he didn’t see anyone at first, but then his sight adjusted. He asked who she was—smiling as he did because as dippy as he was, he liked company.

She didn’t answer though, just came closer. The thing was, she floated toward him, her feet just inches from the hut’s floor. He didn’t notice though.

He did see that she seemed to be reaching out for him. Someone else most likely would have been scared shitless but not Old Pa.

He started to speak—just nonsense. He couldn’t form whole sentences any more as his brain wasn’t functioning, hadn’t been for a long time.

She kept coming closer, but stopped moving when Fred got out of his truck. And when Fred turned the door knob, she vanished as quickly as she had come..."

99 cents!

Monday, March 30, 2015

About The Carousel Horses!


"In front of him were carousel horses with children on them. Painted horses galloping around the place; carousel horses that weren’t on the carousel!

“They come and go like that. The kids love it,” she said. “It’s like magic for them.”

But it wasn’t like magic. They didn’t love it at all because they were shouting for their parents to save them. The only ones that didn’t shout were those that fell under the hoofs. And the reason they couldn’t shout was because the horses were killing them..."


Vampirologist and Dracula Expert: Charles E. Butler's Latest Release!

The new book is called Vampires; the Final Hunt. It is a review book chronicling Dracula and vampire movies.

It is the fourth in a quartet of books dealing with cinematic vampires and Dracula that Charles wrote and illustrated.

Praise for The Romance of Dracula 

“A really great read. A must for any Dracula fan or vampire buff. Well researched and detailed it’s a delight to read. It could be a set text for any media course featuring the count. The amount of research is impressive, little known and interesting facts are crammed on almost every page yet anything less like a dry text book would be hard to find. Its unique Witty and well written it is truly a fine romance.” 
– Abigail Bell 

“Part of the fun of a book like this is that it's not a dry textbook attempting to objectively quantify these films by the standards of world cinema. This is a book by a vampire fan that is intended to be read by vampire fans.” 
– Brian P. Mckinley 

“I've been a Dracula aficionado all my life, and besides reading Bram Stoker's masterpiece I've watched many film versions and read many other Dracula books, but this is the first one I've found that gives a full summary and critique of every major Dracula adaptation, not only that but the author has illustrated every chapter, which is devoted to a specific Dracula adaptation, with a portrait of the title Dracula actor. The book is worth its price for these fine drawings alone in my opinion, but his commentary on each of the films is amusing, candid and insightful, so it's a great and worthy addition to my extensive Dracula library.” 
– Mr. G Caci 

“Mr. Butler's addiction to vampire movies is only slightly less than the blood-lust of his hero Count Dracula but has a lot more research going for it. His summaries and commentaries on Dracula films from silent Nosferatu to Technicolor Hammer horror via Louis Jordan and Jack Palance are detailed, loving and always interesting.” 
– Michael Yates 

“This book will be enjoyed by film and vampire buffs alike. After reading Mr. Butler's book, I've added to my list of must-see vampire films. It's clear that The Romance of Dracula was written with someone who has a true passion for the genre.” 
– Vampire Admirer 

“Reading Mr. Butler's book, I found myself spending time on the computer hunting down each of the flicks that he mentioned. Many are back on my purchase list, and I'm eager to see the films through the author's descriptive eyes.”
 – T. Ouija “Tam” 

“His review of the original novel is breathtaking. It sweeps you up with a fervor. With a series of Dracula quotes and subsequent musings that are at times jaw dropping and at others, downright entertaining.” 
– n Larry 

“Charles Butler's reviews are 100% accurate. He has watched the movies carefully, he has done the research into their making and he treats them all with respect without falling into fanatical worship. These pieces are all thoughtful; he loves the material but also sees their flaws.” `
-Audrey R Cladh 

“One hopes that Butler will provide more detailed thoughts on the various sequels, spin-offs, and the rest of the vampire movie sub-genre in future review books. A must-have for any Dracula fan's collection!” – Donald C. Weiss 
“The book is everything I had hoped and more!! Brilliant author and artist. I am looking forward to future endeavors by Mr. Butler!!!!!!!” 
– Gift “Lorraine Alberti Bartenbach” 

“The Romance of Dracula tackles various incarnations of the good Transylvanian noble head on and is written not in a sycophantic style, but rather someone who is describing something they really like and that infectious warmth does sink in.” 
– D W Newell 
Fan Appraisal: 

“When I was a teenager, I used to spend all of my time in the library reading the old seventies style books about horror that took a hold of my imagination forever. The type of books you are writing resemble those classic books about horror movies and myths and legends that had me sitting there in the library for hour after hour. You have definitely kept this sort of writing alive with your work and really have put out some of the absolute best books like this yet examining and chronicling the magick of the horror movie world. I never stopped reading these type of books since I was a kid. Your books though are the best that have been done in years in this field. I can't wait for these new books you are putting out, especially Vampires Under the Hammer!!” 
– William Jannusch (Witchcross) 4 

Other books by Charles E. Butler and available at Createspace at Amazon 

Vampires; the final hunt

The Romance of Dracula: a personal journey of the Count on celluloid

Detections in a Scarlet Vein; an irrelevant investigation (Kindle pad only)

Vampires Everywhere: the Rise of the Movie UnDead

Vampires Under the Hammer

Guest appearances 

The Lure of the Vampire edited by Bertena Varney M.A.

Vampires: Romance to Rippers an anthology of tasty stories edited by Scarlette D. Noire.

Henry County Folklore; Hoosier tales and poetry written by Mark Sean Orr

The Story written by Lucky S

But First on Earth as Vampire sent, 
Thy Corpse shall from thy tomb be rent, 
And ghastly haunt thy native place, 
And suck the blood of all thy race! 

- Lord Byron, The Giaour (1813) 

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Dracula and Mina: Where Do We Go From Here?

I did a blog post a while ago about what stirs my imagination and gives me the inspiration to write the dark gothic romantic horror that I write.
The novel, Dracula and particularly the film: Bram Stoker's Dracula are the two key examples responsible for that inspiration. In fact, The Fourth Bride (of Dracula) was inspired by that film! That is Book 4 in The Blackstone Vampires Series, AMAZON  $2.99 

complete series is $3.99  AMAZON.
Here are some memorable clips of Mina and Dracula from the film played with the magnificent soundtrack from Hannibal (music created especially for the film).

This particular music, along with the compilation of clips touches my soul and my heart. It demonstrates through sound and picture exactly what I endeavor to do with my fiction.
How it tears us up to see Dracula gazing at Mina. We know she reminds him of his lost love, Elizabeta. And we know too, that he can still feel genuine, gentle love. Love that is innocent and pure. That is what I find so touching. He is a creature of the damned, yet he can love!
We do know however that he is underneath it all a blood beast; a demonic shape-shifting vampire who can change at will. He's a murderous abomination. We see it and we don't forget it!
Yet, he loves! What is more tragic than that?
I just watched this clip and was moved to write this. Can there be anything more tragic than Dracula's love for this human woman? I mean it's love not lust.
It is its own heart breaking Romeo and Juliet. What is more hopeless than  these star-crossed lovers?
We see them dance amongst  candlelight, seemingly content. Yet we know they cannot be; nor can we!
What kind of trickery is this, to have a demonic vampire really feel love? And what of Mina? She loves a vampire! His blood is like wine to her, his touch is paradise--she wants no other. She seems eager to become undead if that is what her love wants!
This is dark gothic romanticsm taken to the limit. It's dark yet it makes us feel.
What else is there to explore? How much further can it go; why not find out?
Stay with me. Please come along on the journey to the ends of the earth and beyond, through all time periods as we discover the secrets of dark gothic love!

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Sometimes it's Better to Drown!.


A lifeboat was headed straight toward them. But it hit one of the rocks and was split asunder as its cargo of half-drowned men was tossed ashore.

There were ten men at least, lying about, trying to crawl, calling out for help, begging and pleading to be saved.

When they saw they were saved, they wept.

“Bless you and thank you!”

“There now, you shall share our food and rest beside our fire. You are safe now.”
Some of the men laughed with the joy of relief, others were stony silent, seeming to disbelieve they had come to safety.

They were given dry clothes and blankets, and something hot to drink.
It was for them, a miracle.

Their eyes followed Emily about--grateful eyes, shining with tears. Watching this beautiful young girl and calling her an angel.

For she was one to them.

“Aye you are that Miss, a golden haired angel sent from heaven!”

This, from the youngest of the men, a lad already stirred by love.
How Grandfather beamed for he was pleased.

“Sleep now, and be at peace for a watery grave shall not be your home!”

The men nodded and smiled and bade their two saviors good night.

It was quiet then. And Grandfather and Emily smiled at one another and closed the door for they could already hear the even breathing of their guests.

“They sleep so soon.”

“They are tired and need rest.”

“Aye, but we don’t.”

Emily giggled and was quieted. “Shh, my dear. We must begin our preparations.”

There was truly a great deal to prepare. This was to be no massacre, for their bounty would be ruined.

The men would not be slaughtered out right. That would never do.

Emily was always the anxious one. So eager to begin...

(end of excerpt)

Lots more like that one!

In this horror collection you'll find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries, a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more! 
Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood-curdling terror!

Friday, March 27, 2015

I Have Become a Creature of The Blood - From Unholy Testament - The Beginnings


"I am what I am for I have become a creature of the blood; a being who dwells in the world of the undead and always shall.

He knew I would make the choice to save the children who are also creatures of the blood. He knew it for he had orchestrated it, like the maestro that he is, Eco an immortal like my own beloved; both of them born of fallen angels and human women. But whereas Louis is good, Eco carries the seeds of Hell within him—

Eco our worst enemy; Eco the destroyer of our friends, the fiend who had ravished me and would have married me in Hell, before Satan himself; Eco who haunts my dreams and always shall.

He had staked the children, my children now for it is my blood that flows within them. In order to save them I opened my own veins that they should drink.
“Drink, my loves, for it is the only gift I have for you.”

I gave up my living life for them and gladly, too. But because of my act I saw the flames of Hell and felt Hell’s horrific heat.

Yet, Hell left no mark on me. I passed through it and was raised. The one who loved me drew me forth. No demon touched me, although they tried. Hordes upon hordes of them reached out to pull me back, back into their master’s domain.

Yet just as they reached for me, I felt myself snatched away. They shouted in rage as I was pulled still further and further away.

And then, I heard a voice, a voice I knew. A voice, it seemed, my heart always dreamt of.

“Rose, I command you to rise from death for death shall not claim you!”

His voice called to me, summoning me forth—the voice of my love, my Louis.
And then, like a baby being born, I emerged into the bright light. I know now it was sunlight. Someone touched my hand. It was Simon. My child now for I had perished giving him my own life force.

And so I was reborn. My transformation was all embracing. All secrets were revealed as the truth of all worlds was shown me. Every question I ever had about God or heaven or humanity was revealed.

I knew God was good and people were supposed to do with their lives the most that they could. I knew about damnation and loyalty to Heaven so that I better understood exile from that kingdom of light. Though undead, I still did know what truth was.

I understood that to be separate from God for whatever purpose was not to be desired, yet one great and fundamental truth was this—that evil exists because good exists. It is the great balance to everything.

And so I left one world to enter another—the world of the undead, that place where I would dwell forever.

My senses were alive as they had never been before. I smelled the wildlife that called the moors their home; birds and rodents—and all manner of insects.
I heard sounds I had never heard. And it was all mine to share with those I loved.
How Louis wept.

And what of my undead children?

At least they had not seen their friends destroyed. At least they had been spared that..."

(end of excerpt)

each novel singly is $2.99

Buy all 4 novels in The Blackstone Vampires Series for $3.99

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Serious Horror

What is serious horror? I’ve been thinking about this. I think it’s horror that goes back to basics, back to the starting point, back to why it was termed ‘horror.’ The time when monsters were depicted as monsters and vampires as the blood- feeding demonic creatures they are. That is not to say there can’t be room for expansion because there can be.

In my view, vampires differ as humans do. However, being vampires they face a dark existence; as dark as the night shadows they dwell in. If they are not intrinsically evil, they are tortured because they know what they are. They cannot enter a church or be turned back into the human being they were. This causes them to suffer, which in turn causes them to have complex emotions and reactions to the world around them–both the living and undead ones.

They might be shunned by other vampires, those who enjoy their beastial existence, the feeds, the orgies and so on with more gusto and less angst.

There is this, though; horror is a broad church and there is room for much experimenting. It only enriches the genre. I, however, am a pretty passionate person by nature and feel I am on a mission to go back to what I see as the roots of horror; in the case of much of my fiction, the core values of darkest horror which I enjoy portraying. I’m not without humor though, dark as it often is. This I have done more in my short fiction.

I do recognize that readers change over time and what they like changes. That is why there is much romance (albeit twisted as hell) in my longer fiction. Even if vampires are heroic and sympathetic, I still depict them as needing to subsist on blood. A creature who lives on blood is not Goldilocks. It’s either a vampire bat or a vampire, that’s what I think.

I see a great deal of dark sexuality too within the vampire’s existence. They feed and lust after one another and the living too. As Dracula says in my novel, The Fourth Bride, “there is pleasure in the blood…” He means sexual gratification. If that is shocking, it is shocking. But it is also being true to horror. Horror is horror. I’m not talking about paranormal romance. HORROR is DARK or it would not be called horror!

Now, that doesn't mean that every single thing I write is seriously dark, it isn't. I have darkly comic and comic fiction out there, there is funny to gruesome in Carole Gill's House of Horrors and Circus of Horrors also, but to a different degree.

*I still experiment. I'm doing that right now in a project I took on. I'll be blogging about that soon.

reblogged 2/2/19
New horror novel in progress*

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Excerpt: One More Night!


"He waited all evening for the old man. He finally rang up the shop. He even walked over to it and banged on the door though he could see no one was inside.

Then he stormed back to his hotel. After smoking incessantly he went to sleep.

It was during the night that it happened. Someone came into his room, he heard the rustling but that was all he heard for he had been drugged. Whatever it had been was in the mint left on his bed. The mint he had just before retiring.

When he opened his eyes he saw a woman covered in blood. Her back was to him but she turned and smiled at him, her teeth becoming as red as the rest of her.

It was when she reached for a cloth to wipe her face that he recognized her. "You're--!"

He wavered for he felt weak. It was then that he looked down to see he was in his bath.

How red the water looked! He screamed for he understood what had happened.

He was cut all over. There didn’t seem to be much of his body that hadn’t been sliced open.

“In life it was maiden’s blood I bathed in, now in death it is anyone’s I fancy and I fancied you as a matter of fact. And now I shall show you how much!”

She moved to caress him and as she did, she kissed him, “You will die now with a kiss and the lips of Countess Bathory upon your dying flesh…"

End of Excerpt

Just one of the stories in:

Sunday, March 22, 2015

What Exactly Went On At the Crimson Club?


"The appointed time came and my client was seated in his private box which overlooked the stage. The girl lay sleeping on a crimson colored bedspread—surrounded by flowers--she was in truth already laid out.

Three came in at one time—females all. I find the men prefer that somehow.

They were singing low and soft--siren-like songs, beautiful and haunting they sounded too. They approached her and ever so gently they drew her gown down—exposing her nakedness. I saw my gentleman straighten up, as he was quite interested.

First they began to caress the girl—in slow sensuous movements, each taking a part of her—to pleasure her as well as themselves.

She began to stir and moan but she didn’t wake, for she had been plied with liquor first. And then it all changed.

I closed my eyes, better to concentrate and feel what they were doing to her--as their caresses turned into something else—their touch into tearing, their passionate mouths into feeding and their teeth into biting.

By now the girl was screaming—flailing about. Her beautiful alabaster body was awash with crimson blood—an unending (it seemed) river of blood.

I think you grasp the significance of the word, crimson.

Anyway they fed—voraciously, hungrily—tearing her flesh drinking her dry.

I COULD TASTE IT MYSELF! That sweet nectar—so light upon the tongue an elixir of life to us!

They fed until they were satiated and lay panting..."

End of Excerpt 

Just one of the stories in;

Thursday, March 19, 2015


Well, they're vampires, remember! They exist for centuries and because they do, they get up to a lot. There are vampire brothels, devil cults, some of which are naughty and some of which are more twisted than  naughty. Let's face it, vampires were made for sin.

Take my two series, The Blackstone Vampires Series (books 1-4) span centuries. Although book 1, The House on Blackstone Moor is set in 19th Century, England, books 2 and 3 Unholy Testament - The Beginnings and Unholy Testament - Full Circle are not!

Those two novels span thousands of years. They tell of ancient Egyptian vampire cults, the love between a Vampire Goddess and a demon. Then you have Rome and a lot of sinning--what with brothels and orgies.

The famous and infamous are depicted as well, from Cleopatra to Roman Emperors--to mass murderers and to Witch finders; from Resurrection men supplying cadavers to eager doctors, to aristocrats doing whatever they want because they could!

Now there's a minefield of horror there. Monsters like Erzebet Bathory, the Blood Countess did as she liked for years--she was only arrested when she started killing girls of noble birth! Bet you didn't know that. She has a blood-drenched affair with the narrator, a demon you will never forget who recounts everything in detail.

Gilles de Rais who rode with Joan of Arc was a major big shot in France having castles, wealth and power. But he also was a sexual deviant, molesting and killing children. Young boys were vanishing but they were peasant children. No one bothered. The only time they did, was when de Rais kidnapped an important person and held him for ransom. THEN they did something.

Mathew Hopkins, Witchfinder General of England was a sadistic lunatic. He hounded, tortured and killed supposed witches. At least he didn't do it long because he died fairly young. He's in my fiction and what I did to him in the storyline gave me a lot of pleasure.

Count Dracula appears in Book 3, but tells his story in  The Fourth Bride, book 4 in the Series goes from England to Transylvania where the hapless heroine, cursed by the count as a baby, becomes Bride #4.

His gypsies are there, aiding him and Van Helsing and his mates are not. They are out to destroy him. I gave the Count a history and depicted his brides in depth. There's a lot of sex and feeding too, it's what vampires do!

Historical horror, why not! History was made for it!

Each book is sold singly for $2.99

You can purchase The Blackstone Vampires Omnibus for $3.99
that's less than one dollar for each book!

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

A Twist in the Tale Excerpt From Circus of Horrors!


"The newly hired performers started to arrive that afternoon. There were all sorts of folks, including dancing girls, very pretty and young looking, most of them. The clowns got to discussing the size of their tits and who had the best ass. Fred shook his head in a warning gesture. The clowns just laughed.

There was a Gorilla Lady—damned if she wasn’t all hairy looking. Fred couldn’t believe she was a fake. Maybe that hair is real. Dexter, the muscle man, looked like a nice guy, tall and built like a mountain.

Don and Joe stood with Lucy, which annoyed Fred. They looked too chummy for his taste. But any jealousy melted away when Lucy’s arm shot up and she waved! She hurried over. “Aren’t they all marvelous? Look, here comes the Wildman.”

Fred caught sight of The Wildman of Zanzibar. He didn’t look very wild or imposing. He certainly didn’t look like a cannibal. Fred didn’t think he was; probably just more of Joe’s bullshit.

“They’re all old timers. We worked the circuit before,” Lucy explained.

Bob and his dogs were even there. Some kids snuck in and Bob was talking to them. There was a little girl with ribbons he was making a fuss over.

Mabel came out and greeted everyone. She was a fine looking lady and boy did Tommy look proud of her. She knew everyone.

“It’s like one family,” Fred said, and it was.

He knew then if he had his way he’d stay with them forever. They were nice to Old Pa and seemed to really be one big family.

Tommy had organized a big cook out—kind of a welcome for all the performers. During the event, he made a great speech. There were great eats and the dancing girls came out later wearing scanty costumes. Alice looked at their svelte, shapely bodies. Poor Alice.

The girls started to do the hootchy kootchy. Then a shimmy, which got the clowns all riled up. They whistled and clapped. Fred knew he’d have to speak to them about not doing anything stupid.

The others, including the Gorilla Lady, sat with Lester and Don—but Lucy came over to sit with Fred. She was excited about Alice and Al when Fred told her about the ring. Fred wondered if she had ever been engaged. He was afraid to ask her though.

They all had a fair amount to drink, despite Prohibition. Tommy kept quite a store. “And we don’t worry about any raids either—I know the right people and money always talks,” he said. “Ain’t that right, Bob?”

Bob the dog man gave him a funny look. “Sure is, boss.”

Fred wanted to ask Lucy about Bob but she was talking to Al and Alice. When Old Pa started to snore, he bid everyone a goodnight. “I best take my dad back now.”

They waved him off. But he thought Lucy’s wave was special, at least he hoped it was.

He put his old father to bed, whistling as he did. “It feels good to be happy,” he said. “Don’t it, Old Pa?”

No answer because the old man had fallen asleep. Fred fell into a deep sleep. The distant sound of laughter and talk from the cook out lulled him. It sounded comforting.

But because he was asleep, he never saw Tommy’s trailer door open. Nor did he see Mabel step outside, naked as a jaybird. Tommy laughed with glee when two huge wings appeared. “I love when you do that!” he cried.

She laughed too as she blew him a kiss and flew away. Up into the sky she soared, like a giant bird. She came back later—holding a child in her arms..."

End of excerpt


is currently


Monday, March 16, 2015


Current work in progress, Anat: Blood Princess

Book 2, Anat: Blood Princess is a story of love and loss, betrayal and magic; dark magic and sorcery. Pharaoh's sorcerer loved her and refused to give her up. Raised from the dead, Anat found herself in the cursed realm of the undead, destined to live many lifetimes pursued by those she hated in search of those she loved.

From the book:

"I, Agrippe, Princess; Great of Praises; Lady of Grace Sweet of Love, Lady of The Two Lands, Daughter to Pharaoh Amenhotep III Son of Re, Lord of Diadems: Beloved of Amon, daughter to Queen Tigye—Daughter of Isis, divine child of hope…my mother.

Her face was the first I saw in my living life and the last I saw upon her death. She was dead before I disgraced my name and rank. I committed the worst sin, I loved a slave. If this is my confession then let me add to the list…the name of Ramet, beloved of princess Agrippe, lover, and friend, Ramet, a slave to the mighty Pharaoh.

And what is the punishment for a princess who loves a slave to Pharaoh? It is exile. No one may speak her name, not a mother or sister or brother. It is as though she was never born and had left no mark upon the earth or mankind.

But what is the punishment for the slave for that same sin? It is castration. After which he is left to die outside the city precincts.

Before he died, while blood ran through his veins and love lived in his beating heart, he came to me first as a friend and then as a lover. He cheered me when I was sad, singing songs I would never forget.

I was twenty. Royal children married far younger. My mother didn’t wish me to marry so young; she said it would be better if I were mature. Father listened and then upon my twentieth birthday, my mother died. Shortly after a husband was chosen for me. His was of a noble house. We were bound by words in ceremonial splendor. Father was pleased. Our two houses were joined.

Setant, a prince of the House of Ammenteris and myself would create bloodlines of new royal stock. We would honor our families, our people, and our nation."

End of excerpt.


Anat, whose living life was in Ancient Egypt committed an unpardonable sin as a royal princess. She fell madly in love with a slave. They both paid dearly for this taboo affair.

Her former lover, Ramet, is a main character in Book 1, Justine: Into The Blood.

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Another Place, Another Being FREE!


"When the twin moons fade along with the night sky and the distant sun rises, he stirs. He has slept well--dreamless and comforted within the confines of his dwelling.

His home is nestled within the cover of sand dunes. It is but a shelter of palm leaves and wasted bush leaves he has woven himself. He climbs out to breathe in the tangy breeze. Soon he will climb atop the dunes to stand and gaze at the only world he knows. The only world he has ever known.

It is a timeless place—his world, his life. So little is known—so much is desired.

He makes his way up the sandy rise with difficulty. His legs trouble him and his tail. Climbing painfully, he eventually reaches the top.

The shore is beautiful--silken and half wet. It gleams in the muted light of a crimson dawn. A sea vast and seemingly unending stretches toward the horizon.
The sea is life to him, for it carries within it gifts of food--small winged crabs—and little horned fish.

He always finds them; they’re always there when his stomach pains him. But thirst now, for his throat is parched. He gazes around and picks up a hollow--an empty shell of a vegetable he has already eaten.

He takes the hollow and turns away from the beach. His destination is a great lake—perhaps as big as the sea.

It supports some life. Massive heads appear regularly far from the shore. They frighten him, for they stare at him for long periods before disappearing into the purple waters below.

He looks for them now, but they are not there. So he kneels down, scooping the water into his vessel. When it is quite full he gulps it down.

Once he saw his reflection in the still water—and he studied it. He had at first thought it was another being. He had hoped it was another being. But when he reached out to touch it, he saw it was merely a reflection.

He has felt his face many times since then. He doesn’t know that the hard ridges he feels are actually small bones. All he knows is he has felt them.

He had been pleased to see himself—it was like having company. But then it saddened him to know he was really alone..."

End of excerpt)

In this horror collection you'll find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries, a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more! 
Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood-curdling terror!


"There is no doubt that she soars above the endless parade of independent horror authors to shine as a true star in the darkness. With the brilliant anthology House of Horrors she proves why she is a perennial favorite. To put it simply, this is a great assembly of tales anyone would be proud to have in their collection"

~Joshua Skye


Tuesday, March 10, 2015


They sought death since childhood. Why?

"Her voice came to me from afar, ‘Please come. We need you to help us..."

It was a voice from the past, a distant memory of a childhood friend and her brother, drawing me forth from my own peculiar world. For peculiar it is—as you shall see.

As I journeyed forth I worried that I would arrive too late, unable to ease their suffering and fear.

These were troubling thoughts and so I drove my steed onward, faster and faster.

“Please,” I shouted, “there is no time to waste not a moment!”

And there wasn’t as daylight was fading fast.

I kept measuring the darkness for it was increasing by the moment and as it did my horse began to slow, still I drove it on. Then at last I saw a turret rising above the bleak woods.

“We are nearly there!” I cried. We were for we were already in sight of the house and so near to the sad occupants within.

Heathstone House was now coming fully into sight--Heathstone with the last two of its accursed line, the brother and sister Jeremiah and Christine, former playmates of mine. Well perhaps that is not the right term, for I was not really a child but only childlike.

None of us can help what we are, and I could not, though I wished I could.
Still it was enough for me to play with them and visit them undetected.
They called me their secret playmate and I was, comforting them as much as I could for no one else did.

It was the children’s desire to die which brought me to that lonely nursery all those years ago. 

(end of excerpt) 

In this horror collection you'll find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries, a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more! 
Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood-curdling terror!


"There is no doubt that she soars above the endless parade of independent horror authors to shine as a true star in the darkness. With the brilliant anthology House of Horrors she proves why she is a perennial favorite. To put it simply, this is a great assembly of tales anyone would be proud to have in their collection"

~Joshua Skye

A Bit of the Ripper

"I felt like an artist admiring my handiwork, she was after all my creation, an exquisite corpse. In life some would have said she was pretty. I, myself, didn’t share that opinion. I could see the bog in her, the stinking midden, which flowed too near to her birth place I could see and smell that as well.

Yet when I first saw her move with the unmistakable sauntering gait of the street walker, I was fascinated, the way a lion might be staring at his prey.

I smiled and said something. She took my interest as flattering, my conversation as exciting. I saw a smile and flash of her teeth, still intact because she was young.

“Alone darling?”

Darling! What effrontery. Had she known who I was she’d have died! How ironic, don’t you think?

“Ooh you are a gent, ain’t ya?  Look dear! I don’t live far. Just this way. Miller’s Court, see?”

It was late—few people were about even on these disease ridden streets. So we walked along, just she and I, both full of happy expectation.

Her lodgings were grim and disgusting. A broken window with a piece of fabric shoved inside it to keep the cold out.

“Step in whilst I light the fire.”

The room was so tiny the door could not open properly.  Her bed seemed to fill up the place, a busy bed no doubt.

“I‘ll just put this on...”

I turned in order not to see her tawdry preparations.

 “Alright then.”

She was wearing a gaudy, nearly threadbare chemise, long past its best, a gift perhaps made cheap from overuse. I think she thought I was shy. “That’s right, ducks you just relax. I’ll stretch out on me bed and wait, that’ll give you time.”
I smiled too as I reached for my friend: Mr. Sharp and Ready—a pleasant sort of chap if you don’t rile him.

The women rile him—some women that is.

Some kind of instinct must have alerted her for she suddenly opened her eyes..."

(end of excerpt) 

In this horror collection you'll find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries, a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more! 
Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood-curdling terror!


"There is no doubt that she soars above the endless parade of independent horror authors to shine as a true star in the darkness. With the brilliant anthology House of Horrors she proves why she is a perennial favorite. To put it simply, this is a great assembly of tales anyone would be proud to have in their collection"

~Joshua Skye

Monday, March 9, 2015

Undying Friendship

EXCERPT: while on promo 99cents.

"Louis worked the night shift at St. Vincent’s Hospital. He was a porter. It wasn’t bad because as any night shifter will tell you it tends to be a quiet shift. Most of the patients are asleep, there’s fewer staff and even the big shot doctors aren’t around.

Louis hated those arrogant pricks because they thought they were better than everyone else. A lot of them talked down to him. The worst of the lot was the Chief of Staff. Christ, Louis hated him.

Even the nurses spoke down to him: ordering him around like he was piece of crap.

“I got dignity too you know! I count! I’m a person!”

He had filed a complaint once or twice with Human Resources, not that they cared because they were even worse, especially that supercilious director who always made Louis squirm.

“I’ll see what I can do, Louis.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming here.”

Louis always skulked out of the office feeling worse than when he went in.
The only person in the world who was kind to him was his friend, Tito. Only Tito Sanchez was lying in the hospital morgue dead of a drug overdose.

Just 24 hours ago, Louis had seen them carry him out in one of those big black plastic bags.

“Got another one for our meat wagon.”

Louis’ head snapped around when he heard that gem. That said from one of the attendants to the other one.

“He was my friend!”

“Oh yeah. Sorry fella.”

He watched the damned thing drive silently away. No reason for a siren, not now.

“Bye Tito.”

The truth was he loved Tito. Not in a faggy way, but in a real hero kind of way. He looked up to him the way a kid does to his older brother.

Tito could do no wrong in Louis’ eyes. If there was one person in the world that could make everything right it was Tito.

Louis laid awake plenty of nights worried about him and his drug taking. That was one thing Louis never touched.

He tried speaking to his friend but nothing he said helped. After a while he gave up. That’s when he had the feeling.

Tito’s death was not entirely unexpected because Louis had a premonition. He was like that. He had been since he was little. Sometimes he knew what someone was going to say or do before they did it.

Mostly he didn’t care. It didn’t work for important stuff like lottery numbers or guessing at cards. It was just a skill of sorts. Something he could do—the only thing he was good at.

And if Louis could sometimes sense something, others could too. Like they could sense what Louis was thinking.

Tito had told him it was as though Louis was sending out a signal.

“I don’t know what it is, Louis. I ain’t psychic or nothin’ but I think you might be. Maybe not in the way people think about such stuff. I think more it’s vibes or somethin’ your brain sends out.”

Louis was flattered. It was something to latch onto, something nice. Not like his life.

He didn’t have much of a life at twenty eight. His father had disappeared when Louis was a kid. This caused his mother to have a kind of break down in the old cabeza. She was no one to talk to. Now with Tito gone he was more alone than ever.

The idea to raise Tito up came to him when he was feeding his cat, Bart. He had been reading his favorite paper, the one that had those stories about Elvis on the moon and UFO’s landing in the Pentagon.

The story that got him going told how some guy in England had raised his friend from the dead.

“Bart man, that’s it.”

The cat didn’t give a fuck. He had eaten and wanted to take a piss in his litter tray or against the wall if he felt like it.

Louis began to re-read the article."

(end of excerpt) 

In this horror collection you'll find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries, a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more! 
Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood-curdling terror!


"There is no doubt that she soars above the endless parade of independent horror authors to shine as a true star in the darkness. With the brilliant anthology House of Horrors she proves why she is a perennial favorite. To put it simply, this is a great assembly of tales anyone would be proud to have in their collection"

~Joshua Skye

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Excerpt, Show and Tell Would Never Be The Same

"He was a solitary little boy, morose and distrustful of others. He hadn’t always been that way. He felt his parents used to love him but then it all seemed to change as if they changed.

Sometimes he’d catch his mother looking at him, as if she was sorry he was there. Her eyes were full of hurt and some kind of pain or was it something else, something she didn’t wish to tell him?

Maybe it was a secret she shared with his father. He didn’t know. He hoped things would get better but they didn’t. They got worse when his mom’s tummy got big.

“You’re going to have a baby brother or sister won’t that be nice?”

He used to nod and say sure because he thought it would be but then he wasn’t too certain because he didn’t understand the questioning look in his mother’s eyes.

“I hope it’s an easier birth. Yours wasn’t.”

How flat and annoyed her voice sounded every time she said that and she said it a lot.

His father spoke to him once; only once not twice, he counted.

“You okay son, is everything alright?”

He opened his mouth to spill his guts and to at last unburden himself but his father looked worried. It was as if whatever was up with his mother had rubbed off on his dad.

“Well here you go.”

His father smiled and gave him an extra fifty cents to buy a comic book. That’s all he had really--his comic books and his bike.

They gave him the bike for Christmas and he loved it. He thought of it as a peace offering.

"Next year this time there will be a little stranger here, but not a stranger for long."

Eventually the stranger came with his mother. Actually he had liked her being away even if it was only for a few days. A neighbor stayed with him. She was all excited.

“Nothing like a new baby coming home!”

Yeah big deal. The first sight of it made him want to puke. It was wrinkled and ugly and it screamed and if that wasn’t bad enough his parents were always looking at it and talking to it.

He never saw his mother without that thing in her arms or on her lap. All around him were bottles and diapers, dirty stinking diapers and a big pail she threw them into.

He retreated; he backed away from the whole lousy thing, from the ugly screamer and his parents and he immersed himself in his hobby.

He liked to study things, learn about things; nature and animals. And it was good because he could be a doctor someday.

His parents would be proud of him and so would the kids at school and what about his teacher?

He wouldn’t let them know though; he wanted to surprise them all; to keep it a secret thereby making it more dramatic when the moment would come and all would be revealed.

Meanwhile he’d work in private in the shed out back.

His father didn’t use it anymore. Hell he hadn’t even been inside it for more than a year which kind of made it his shed.

He loved the way the door whined open and the dark mustiness hit him. It was great being in his own private place.

Last week in school the teacher announced a special Show and Tell. She wanted everyone to know about it.

“We all have secrets, secrets we don’t wish anyone to know and sometimes we have secret places where we keep something, something we want to keep private.

That was true. If the shed was accessible to anyone, his secret pursuits weren’t. He kept them under lock and key in an old suitcase under the floorboards.

What kid didn’t have a place to stash his prized possessions?

Only last week on TV he saw a show about a boy with a secret hiding place. The boy kept all of his comic books there so his brother wouldn’t tear them up or slobber over them because the brother was younger.

He’d probably have to face those sorts of things when his own brother got a little older. He was pleased about the suitcase because it was light enough to carry to school for Show and Tell. 

He could just picture the moment when he opened it up: the gasps and cheers and applause. 

It was going to be hard to get through the week and wait for Show and Tell.
He finally lived to see Tuesday, it wasn’t easy. But he had and he was in school ready to go.

Nearly everyone commented on his suitcase. Most of it nasty and spiteful.
He just smiled. “You’ll see!"

The teacher even looked impressed.

His turn came third. The teacher motioned him up to the front.

“For Show and Tell today I have brought my collection, it’s a hobby you see. My parents don’t know about it no one does.”

“We’ll know!”

One of his worst tormentors shouted out. The teacher shushed him but he only sniggered.

At last it came time to open the case. So he did. He wasn’t prepared for the look of horror on everyone’s face; horror and retching.

And if that wasn’t bad enough the teacher was shaking. “Get that out of here. Take it out at once.”

What was wrong with her, this was a big deal; he had revealed his greatest secret..."

(end of excerpt)

In this horror collection you'll find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries, a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more! 
Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood-curdling terror!


"There is no doubt that she soars above the endless parade of independent horror authors to shine as a true star in the darkness. With the brilliant anthology House of Horrors she proves why she is a perennial favorite. To put it simply, this is a great assembly of tales anyone would be proud to have in their collection"

~Joshua Skye

Death, A Witness to The Black Death, 1348

London 1348

"Death was all around--in the filth and contagion, beside the diseased ravaged ships in the harbor, moving up from the docks with the scurrying rats--unnoticed as passengers but so vital to this tale.

Death paused, standing among the dead and dying animals, the decomposing human corpses, many of which lay bloated in the street, food for countless starving death-marked dogs.

Death as always watched and waited.

He watched madmen screaming gibberish at the top of their lungs as they dashed down the streets, for they had lost their minds having seen loved ones die.

Powerlessness is often a precursor to madness.

He watched too relatives trying to carry their dead loved ones away to one of the open burial pits outside the city because no one else was left to do it.

There were more dying daily it seemed. The carts hadn’t come around lately shouting for folk to bring out their dead, the carriers of the dead were themselves dead.

Death saw and they saw him. That is those about to die saw him.

Like a parody of the Gladiator’s cry: “we who are about to die salute you!” so they did; only it was no parody.

Nothing could have been more grim than this.

Very often they tried to bargain with him.

“Please, let me live. I don’t want to die. My wife will have no husband, my child no father. What is to become of them?”

Sadly and with no facetiousness at all Death would answer, “they will not suffer long…for I shall come for them very soon…’

So much misery, he didn’t wish to see it. He didn’t enjoy any aspect of being Death, he never had..."

(end of excerpt) 

In this horror collection you'll find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries, a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more! 
Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood-curdling terror!


"There is no doubt that she soars above the endless parade of independent horror authors to shine as a true star in the darkness. With the brilliant anthology House of Horrors she proves why she is a perennial favorite. To put it simply, this is a great assembly of tales anyone would be proud to have in their collection"

~Joshua Skye

Friday, March 6, 2015

Excerpt: Songs of Sirens or Something Else?

"She heard the song the first night, a beautiful haunting song that came from somewhere magical, where fairytales are real and wishes made with love come true.

Granny had given Anya her own bedroom and was sleeping in the parlor.

“You will be happy in this room, for I know how you love it so. It faces the lake and you love looking at it!”

Anya did love the room with its cozy bed and the beautiful French doors that opened onto the graceful balcony.

Nanny tucked Anya in. “Sleep well and have the most wonderful dreams, dreams of love and goodness.”

Anya promised, not even saying, “If I can,” but swearing she would.

Before it was time to go to sleep Granny read Anya the most wondrous fairytale, all about songs of magic and fantasy and beauty.

Anya was nearly dozing by the time it was finished so Granny tucked her in. “Sleep well my granddaughter, sleep well and dream of love.”

Sometime during the night, between one dream and another it seemed Anya dreamt she heard the most wonderful music.

It was so beautiful, she wanted to step outside so she could trace where it was coming from. But she couldn’t though she tried for she was much too sleepy. And although she sat up, she soon sank back into the soft eiderdown only to fall deeply asleep again.

When she woke in the morning, still thinking it was all a dream she told her Granny.

 “Did it sound like angels in heaven, child?”

“Yes, “ Anya said. “It was the song of angels I heard. And I so wished to see them too. But I dreamed I was too tired and although I tried to get up, I fell asleep again! It was a dream wasn’t it? It couldn’t have been real could it have?”

“You would like it to be real, my child?”

“Yes, I would as real as love can be.”

Granny sighed. “I did read you a fairytale probably that was the cause of it all.”

Anya thought that might be so. “Yes perhaps, ” she sighed. “Do read it again for I would very much like to dream it all again.”

And so Granny did. She read the same lovely story about maidens who danced by a lake – maidens who were really water nymphs and whose sole purpose in life was to sing songs for little girls who liked to dream of magic.

Anya grew sleepy as she listened. And when the clock struck nine she had to be carried to her bed.

“Good night my child, everything will be alright. You will see my precious one. You will see more magic than you can imagine!”

"Granny kissed Anya’s forehead and quietly slipped out of the room and as strange as it seemed, the singing began almost immediately.

This was no dream Anya soon realized. As a matter of fact, it seemed more distinct—for now she clearly heard the sweetly sad refrain about loss and love—about parting and unrelieved sadness and heartache. It was so sad in fact that Anya wept.

“I will see these maids. I will!” she shouted as she hurried toward the French doors.

There happened to be a pearly moon that shone brightly and lit the lake and the land enough for Anya to see three maids dancing. But not only dancing for they were singing too. And as Anya opened the door, she heard the music so clearly and spied the fiddler there who accompanied them.

How beautifully he played and how graceful they were, twirling about—singing and dancing.

Anya stepped closer to the balcony wall and as she did, she suddenly realized they were all watching her.

“I only wish to listen!”

She heard them giggle when she said that. And she giggled too but that was when she saw them begin to slowly drift upward toward her!

Up, they went like the slow rolling mist that lifted off of the lake at dawn.

Anya gasped. For as much as she liked them, she didn’t want them to come to her. They were frightening her a bit now. For the closer they came, the louder they sang and the song they sang sounded odd and scary almost and they looked different too with their arms outstretched as though they were reaching for her!

But what was worse was they were calling her name: “Anya! Anya!”

How did they know her name? How had that happened?

She began to cry and back away. “No! No go away!”

But they didn’t. They kept on coming, slowly—but steadily.

There was only one thing to do. Anya quickly closed the doors and locked them.

They were on the balcony by then, having drifted down so very gracefully, their bare feet gliding just above the smooth brick floor.

Anya was transfixed and couldn’t move for she wanted to see what they looked like. But a cloud passed over the moon then so that she could only see them in shadow.

“Anya, let us in… let us sing to you…hear our song…!”

“No please! Please!”

Suddenly the bedroom door opened and Granny appeared. She rushed to the doors. “Free the latch and you free your spirit!”

(END of excerpt)

In this horror collection you'll find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries, a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more! 
Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood-curdling terror!


"There is no doubt that she soars above the endless parade of independent horror authors to shine as a true star in the darkness. With the brilliant anthology House of Horrors she proves why she is a perennial favorite. To put it simply, this is a great assembly of tales anyone would be proud to have in their collection"

~Joshua Skye

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