Hi all. Below are all tales I’ve previously posted on this blog now collected in a single post. These were written with a heavy Salinger influence; it was when I learned to be more honest with my writings regarding myself and others. Read More
Below, you’ll find links to all the chapters from my novella Homecoming. So, if you’re late to the party or you fancy a catch-up, here’s the horror tale in all its glory:
Well this was a fun read. Robert Calder (AKA Jerrold Mundis) published this in 1976 at the height of the big horror boom. You know, when every publisher wanted to jump on the King bandwagon and hoped they’d have their own horror cash cow. In truth, I have no idea if Jerrold Mundis was trying to ride that wave of profitable thrillers. But, we do have this little canine tale which, although has its problems, is a pretty sweet read all in all.
We drove for what felt like forever. Yeah, I asked ‘are we there yet’ enough times that even I was getting sick of it. All the while, that fucking black mist kinda swept me up behind my eyes. I ignored it; I had shit to do. But A.D.’s face kept looming out at me and I couldn’t understand why I felt this way. Read More
I was back at the factory in record time. Turned out the police avoided most of this district so I had it easy when I took my usual shortcut. I knew my luck would run out eventually so I decided on only leaving the factory when absolutely necessary. Then again, everything I did was an absolute necessity so yeah, there’s my problem. Read More
So, I headed out into the frosty morning to kill Aleksander. A.D. was still sleeping and it felt awkward edging out of her arms but I have work to do. Read More
My name is Oliver S. Kennedy and I killed my first person when I was twelve years old. What? It’s 20XX and I’m just that honest. Read More
The digital clock blinked into 12:43am as James heard his father’s heavy footsteps enter the bedroom adjacent to his. His parents hadn’t slept in the same room for months now and he never questioned why; maybe it was the ‘man smell’ and those novels with the horrifying covers? Stephen King, John Saul and their ilk scared him before he even turned his first page.
James awoke with a start and, even with the throbbing in his temples, he reached over to his record collection and pulled out Scorching Beauty by Iron Butterfly. Read More
The sun splashed over James who woke spread-eagled on his bed. He winced at the light and wondered how a sky so pale and cloudy could make him feel so defeated before catching a glimpse of the empty whisky bottle. A painful ache played around the corners of his forehead which he was certain would encompass his entire cranium in a torturous agony. He wondered if more sleep would abate the problem before remembering his father. If he smelled the whisky on him, he’d have a field day with it so James decided to cut the knot. Read More