Linda Welch's Blog, page 3
December 17, 2013
The Midnight Choir (A Whisperings Short)
Do you feel the magic? Are your emotions bubbling? The holiday season can be incredibly emotional, and for some, a romantic time of year. In the spirit of the season, this short is not a mystery, it’s a sweet little romance, Whisperings style, and I think you’ll figure it out before Tiff does. ‘Tis the season, and I wanted to give her a very special Christmas present.
THE MIDNIGHT CHOIR
Royal inhaled through his nose. “Is that a new perfume? It is intoxicating.”
“Think you’re funny, mister?”
“And you are so beautiful tonight.”
He stared into my eyes, making my legs feel like rubber bands, even though I knew his dreamy expression had to be an act. Despite Royal’s insistence I am the most glamorous woman on Earth, I am far from beautiful on a good day and looked like a plague victim this Christmas. “Beautiful? Do you really want me to slap you?”
“How can you be so irritable when tomorrow is Christmas Day?”
“I can be irritable at the drop of a hat. It’s one of my specialties.”
“Of all the holidays, nothing evokes memories quite like Christmas. When I was a boy, Christmas was magic and the feeling has never faded.”
Royal adores Christmas. I hugged him around the waist. “Tell me about it.”
“It was much the same as in every home, I imagine. Mother baked and the aromas filled the house. A fire blazed in the hearth, the tree glittered almost to the ceiling. My mother sang as she worked – she had a wonderful voice – and always Christmas carols at this time of the year. Father often joined in. I can see them, his arm over her shoulders as they sang a duet.” He snorted out a small laugh. “I piped in with horrendous renditions of popular seasonal songs. They bore it with remarkable fortitude.”
I wondered if his brother Kien sang along with him, if their relationship was better when they were small, but I didn’t ask. Royal never mentioned Kien and I didn’t want to sour his good mood. “I’ve never heard you sing.”
His arms tightened around me. “Consider yourself fortunate.”
“You can’t be that bad.” I canted my head. “Come on, Royal. Let it all loose.”
“Perhaps tomorrow.” He pecked a kiss on my forehead. “But you cannot hold me responsible for what it does to your hearing and sanity.”
“It’s a deal, as long as it’s not Jingle Bells.”
“I would not dare.” His eyes sparkled as they gazed into mine. “But I am reminded of another song as I look at you.”
“Yeah? Which one?”
He stepped back. “I’ll see you later.”
“Royal?” I frowned as he turned away. “What song?”
He waved over his shoulder and continued down the path to the street.
“Royal?” I called, annoyed now.
“What’s he whistling?” Mel asked.
My entire head felt stuffed with cotton wool and I had to concentrate to hear his tootling.
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.
“Thanks a lot, Royal!” I yelled.
He climbed into his big red pickup and drove off.
“Ass,” I muttered as I went in the kitchen and plucked another tissue from the box. I blew my nose with a terrific honk and tossed the tissue in the trash can.
I headed upstairs, still muttering.
Jack sailed down as I went up. “We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year.”
“You know I hate that song,” I said with a scowl.
“One of many.” He sighed dramatically, then warbled in a sing-song voice, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”
“That one too.” I dragged my aching body the last couple of steps and went in the bathroom. This cold had me totally bummed. I rarely got sick and to be laid low with a common cold, at Christmas, felt like karma knew something I didn’t. If not karma, then my old pal Murphy’s Law had stepped in again.
Jack and Mel were home for Christmas. Their wanderings had not taken them far as yet; getting anywhere specific took a long time, and returning just as long, so they had not ventured out of Utah. It seemed I just got accustomed to being alone when they popped up again. Having them around at Christmas cheered me, but feeling as I did, I just couldn’t raise the enthusiasm to . . . enthuse about their being here.
I peered in the mirror and wished I had not. I looked awful and stank of the menthol gunk I put under my nose to keep my nasal passages clear enough to breathe. Lank hair, dry chapped lips, red nostrils, weeping eyes. I looked pasty, too, and that takes some doing when your skin is already as pale as mine. Sinus pressure down one side of my face and jaw hurt worse than toothache.
“The decorations look lovely.” Mel said, sounding way too merry.
“Yeah. Nice.” I shut the bathroom door and stripped off my sweater. I didn’t even have the energy to tell her to get out.
She clasped her hands. “Royal got them up in a flash.”
He did, with the help of a little demon speed.
Stripping off the rest of my clothes, I put on an old gray T-shirt, pink pajama bottoms, big fluffy gray slippers and pulled on my thick pink chenille robe. Dumping the clothes in the hamper, I went to my bedroom. Mel followed me.
I took the jar of petroleum jelly from the bedside table and dabbed a little around my sore nostrils. Yep, my nose shone brighter than Rudolf’s.
“What do you think, Mac?” I asked my little dog, who snoozed in his red and black plaid dog bed.
He lifted his head and I swear he looked me over with consideration. Then he lurched to his feet, turned a circle and lay down with his back to me.
“That bad, huh?”
After knocking back a dose of sniffling, sneezing, coughing, stuffy head, fever, so you can sleep medicine, I went downstairs and turned off the house lights. I wanted to sit in the living room, with only the warm orange glow from the wood burning stove and the tree’s twinkling colored lights dappling reflections on the walls. I flopped on the couch and snuggled into a big pillow.
Like last Christmas, Royal and I would stay the Eve and Christmas morning at my house, then go to his apartment where he’d spent the afternoon cooking a veritable feast for our supper. As sick as I felt, my mouth watered at the thought of what Royal’s culinary expertise would produce.
He refused to tell me what he was doing tonight. A year ago I would have thought he performed some duty as enforcer for the High House, which he couldn’t talk about. With the Gates closed, he no longer reported to anyone, but still policed the Gelpha community. Someone had to do it, and it fell to Royal and two other enforcers. However, he told me what he was about, and sometimes I went with him. So, if I discounted Gelpha business, the single most likely reason for his secrecy must be gift buying, for little old me. Like a lot of men, he no doubt left it till the last minute.
I felt warm and drowsy as the medicine kicked in.
“Tiff!”
My name, whispered in my ear, brought me back to the surface. I had been out for three hours. Three hours was not enough. Groggily, I rubbed my eyes. “Royal?”
“No, it’s me,” Jack said.
I squinted at the mantle clock. “What time is it?”
“Eleven-fifty. Tiff – ”
“Royal didn’t come back?” I swung my legs off the couch.
“No, he did not.” Jack fisted his hands on his hips. “Now will you listen to me? We have a problem.”
Uh oh. He sounded serious. “What’s wrong?”
“Come see,” Mel hissed.
With a groan, I hauled my butt off the couch and followed them to the kitchen. They stood tight to the big multi-paned windows. I didn’t have to press my nose to the glass to see what bothered them.
It was bitterly cold outside and chill air leaked through the old window frames. The night sky was clear, spackled with so many stars the orange glow of Clarion’s lights could not quench all of them. Facing my house, nine figures stood in a line in the middle of the street. Away from the street lamps and house decorations, they were all but shapeless in heavy winter outerwear, with hats or hoods pulled over their faces. I saw only the suggestions of noses, mouths and chins. They were perfectly motionless.
“How long have they been there?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “We noticed them a few minutes ago.”
They were staring at the house. They couldn’t see Jack and Mel and I doubted they could see me, but there was no mistaking the focus of their attention.
I hastily backed into the room. An icy chill which had nothing to do with the temperature washed over my back and I shivered.
I tried to think it through, not easy when my entire head ached. “Carol singers?”
“At five to midnight?” Jack said.
Not carol singers, then. Why did I even suggest it? “Folk who are up to no good don’t as a rule stand in the middle of the street.”
“Who’s going to see them this late?” said Mel.
“We are.”
“Only because Jack and I woke you.”
“But if they want to break in, they wouldn’t stand outside for god knows how long first.”
“They are looking in here, aren’t they?” Jack asked.
“Sure seems like it.”
“Maybe they’re not humans,” Mel said in a hushed voice. The fingers of one hand went to her mouth as if she meant to chew her nails.
Not human. My wide-eyed gaze shot to Mel, then back to the street. Otherworldy?
“No,” I breathed.
Otherworldly, but who? They were not tall enough to be Cousins, but Gelpha come in all sizes. We didn’t know who was here and who was in Bel-Athaer when the Gates closed; maybe a few who didn’t like me got stuck here.
I got my Ruger from the kitchen drawer.
Seeing me armed, Jack and Mel went into a tizzy, whipping back and forth in front of the window. Jack’s voice quavered. “Who are they, what do they want?”
“I don’t know.” I popped the gun’s magazine and checked it before ramming it back in with the heel of my hand. Fully loaded, seventeen rounds. “Just playing it safe.”
But why wait till now to come after me? The Gates closed a year ago. And instead of an ambush, they stand in the street for anyone to see?
“How many people have a grudge against you?” Jack asked.
I tried to recall all the people Royal and I put in jail and prison. “A few, I guess.”
Keeping my eyes on the eerie group in the street, I stepped to the kitchen table and picked up my cell phone.
“The police?” Mel asked.
I held the phone firmly, but hesitated to dial. If Gelpha were out there, they would either disappear when they heard the cops coming, or worse, stay here and put up a fight, one the police would not win.
My muzzy brain decided to kick in. “They’re not Gelpha,” I told Jack and Mel. “They don’t feel the cold like we do, they don’t need to bundle up.”
But if they were regular people with a legitimate reason to be in my street at a couple minutes till midnight, I couldn’t for the life of me imagine why. What to do, what to do? Human or Otherworldy, my neighbors would not be happy about yet another disruption caused by their neighbor Tiff Banks if she phoned the police.
“Perhaps it’s a disguise,” Jack suggested.
He could be right. Should I get my tin of metal filings and start sprinkling?
“Whoever they are, I have the right to defend myself.” I went into the hall where I could see the intruders through the narrow pane of glass next to the door.
The clock in the living room boinged and my bones almost climbed out of my skin.
“Midnight,” Jack informed me.
“It’s Christmas Day,” Mel said after the twelfth stroke.
Right then, a man’s voice, a glorious, rich, soaring baritone broke the night’s silence. “Oh holy night, the stars are brightly shining. It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth.”
Some songs send pleasurable shivers down my spine. It may be the lyrics, or a voice’s incredible purity, or the emotion it projects. This was one of those songs.
“Long lay the world in sin and error pining, till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.”
Mesmerized, I put my Ruger and phone on the hall table, opened the door and went onto the porch, my slippers scuffing a thin coat of frost.
“Tiff, are you crazy? Come back!” Jack shrieked.
“A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.”
I smiled so broadly, I was surprised my lips didn’t crack. “Shh, Jack, it’s okay.”
Just then the powerful voice commanded, “Fall on your knees,” and I had to grab the porch rail to stop myself obeying.
Other voices blended with the solo, and the singers raised their faces and looked up at the stars. I could see them now.
I didn’t have to call the cops, they were already here. All but one were members of the Clarion Police Choir.
I stood there in my worn old shirt, shapeless robe, fat fluffy slippers, hair and face a mess, nose swollen, and tears sat in my eyes.
The song ended and a deep silence fell over the street. I noticed a few of my neighbors had come outside; they stood on their steps, or porches, or paths, appearing as awed as I felt.
“I want to cry,” Mel whispered. “I can almost feel tears in my throat.”
“Oh my,” said Jack.
The singer in the middle, the baritone, left the others and approached the house. I couldn’t move a muscle.
“Tiff, get inside!” Jack remembered to be scared and whipped a circle around me. “What is wrong with you?”
“Calm down, Jack.” I grinned like a maniac. “It’s okay.”
Only one man knew I loved that song. Only one man knew that if I didn’t see him and his friends in the street, my roommates would, and they would alert me.
My heart sped up when he went down on one knee and pushed his hood back. He held up one hand with a small, square box balanced on the palm, the lid open and something sparkly nesting in black velvet. His other hand rested on his heart.
“Tiff, my beautiful Tiff,” Royal began.
November 29, 2013
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Credits: Christmas Bauble Background by Kittisak; Digital Book Reader by adamr
October 30, 2013
Tiff Takes on Halloween (A Whisperings Short)
The Avenues were crazy with costumed kids tearing everywhere, parents yelling at them or waiting on the sidewalk while their little darlings threatened to trick if they didn’t get a treat. Lights shaped like orange and white striped candy corn, bats, cats and even eyeballs were strung from eaves, in porches and over windows. Vinyl blow-ups equipped with air pumps swayed on lawns: zombies, giant cats and spiders, black carriages, ghosts and a host more. And of course just about every house sported carved pumpkins; some were downright artistic.
“This is stupid,” I told Royal.
“Nonsense. Halloween isn’t just for children,” he replied with a smile.
I’d striped my silver-white hair with wash-out blue dye, used gray to ring my eyes and hollow my cheeks, and that was it. I wore a long, all-enveloping black cloak which hid my thick sweater, flannel-lined jeans and down-filled jacket. Most of the little trick-or-treaters looked fat with layers of clothes beneath their costumes. All of Royal’s suggestions for my costume fell in the sultry and half-naked category, but it was bitter out here.
Royal, who doesn’t feel the cold, was a highlander. His copper-gold hair hung loose on his shoulders and down his back. He wore a plaid kilt, sporran, argyle socks, sandals and nothing else except a kind of bandolier minus bullets across his naked chest, and he carried a saber. He’d painted half his face blue to look like woad.
A lot of smooth, bronzed, muscular Royal was on show. I would have been happier if he’d worn something less revealing. Women and teen girls leered at him and one woman even licked her lips in a very suggestive manner, until I caught her eye.
I’d have been happier if I didn’t carry two passengers. Although I couldn’t feel them, Mel and Jack clung to me as if velcroed on. They were thrilled to experience Halloween again after years of being stuck in my house. We did have an awkward moment when Jack accidentally lost hold of me. He could have tacked on to other folk until he caught up, but instead waited behind and grizzled like a baby. I was tempted to leave him, but being the compassionate woman I am, pretended I’d dropped my car keys and going back in search of them allowed him to attach to me again.
“Dale and I went as a horse one year,” Jack said.
“Oh, which end were you?” Mel asked.
“The rear. After that, every time we argued he called me a horse’s ass.”
“Argued a lot, did you?”
“You know what they say about making up,” Jack said with a smirk in his voice.
As always, ignoring them was difficult, but I didn’t want to spoil Royal’s evening by telling him my roommates had hitched a ride.
“Royal, we hardly ever argue,” I said.
His arm went over my shoulders and I felt his heat on the back of my neck. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“But don’t couples argue a lot? Isn’t it part of being together?”
He smiled with a flash of white, even teeth. “Don’t look for problems when there are none.”
He was right, of course. We weren’t perfect but we were happy.
We were here―according to Royal―for the ambience, the fun and excitement of the holiday. I watched the kiddies toting loaded treat bags and wouldn’t have objected to some candy. If we’d stayed home and handed out treats to the kids, I could have filched some.
We paused outside a grand old house. Like many in The Avenues, it had deep eaves and cookie-cutter moldings around the windows and front door, and a long, wide porch. Heavy shutters covered the windows, the little front yard a tangle of rose bushes and long grass, and dead leaves littered the wood steps leading up to the door. Apart from neglect, the house appeared to be in good repair. An abandoned house in The Avenues, the “in” place to live here in Clarion, was unusual.
From out of the deeply shadowed porch, a pirate galloped down the steps and thrust his sword in Royal’s back.
“Eek!” Jack and Mel shrieked in unison.
As if the breath in my body turned to lead, I couldn’t breathe and struggled to pull air into my lungs. My arms jerked and hands shook as I waved at his torso.
“Tiff?” Royal went into a defensive half-crouch and looked around in alarm.
My breath returned with a whoosh. I stared at the pirate. The pirate, naturally, was a Captain Jack Sparrow look alike, except as well as the sword he held, another sword stuck through his chest.
He stared back at me. “Oh, shit,” he exclaimed, and tore back up the stairs, taking his sword with him.
Fuck. One of them.
“Wait!” I yelled and ran up the stairs after him.
“What are you doing?” Royal called from behind me.
I half turned and almost stumbled. “Wait there, Royal. I won’t be long.”
But he came after me. “You can’t go in there, Tiff.”
I stopped and teetered on the step. “It’s one of them, babe. I’ll be right back. Promise.”
He briefly closed his eyes, opened them as he threw out his hands. He knows I like to be alone when I talk to a shade. “Can’t we go anywhere. . . ,” he began, then let his hands fall as if in defeat. “Just be careful in there.”
I nodded jerkily and continued up to the porch. To my surprise, the doorknob turned and with a shove the door opened. It creaked.
I stood in a hall of wood floors and paneled walls. Streetlight from outside made a narrow trail over the floor. No tracks marred the slightly dusty boards, so no living person had been here for some time. I looked over my shoulder at the street and Royal standing in the front yard.
Jack and Mel had been babbling since the pirate stabbed Royal. I’d tuned them out, but now their voices hammered in my ears. “Shut up!” I growled.
Jack gulped. They shut up.
I took another step, and stopped as a memory hit me. “I got it! Fourteen years ago on Halloween. The guy was an actor, worked for a local production company. His teen nephew killed him. He was stoned and thought the sword was a prop.” This must be the house.
“Oh, yes, that was so sad,” Mel sighed.
What was his name? Tom? Terry? Theodore! Yes, Theo Granger.
“Theo?” I softly called as I continued on to what appeared to be a large reception room. “I know you can hear me. Come talk to me. I can’t hurt you.”
Then I remembered I couldn’t help him, either. His nephew was alive after serving time in a maximum security juvenile facility, now free but living in another state. If his nephew grew into old age and died a natural death, Theo would have to wait a long time to pass over to wherever shades of the dead go.
With the windows covered, I’d be in the dark once I moved farther into the house, and I didn’t have a flashlight.
“Damn,” I muttered, swiping at a nearby light switch in frustration.
The lights came on.
Well I’ll be damned. The owners hadn’t had the electricity turned off? But they left here fourteen years ago. I’m not a person who looks a gift horse in the mouth, but this made me suspicious. No doubt I was overreacting; perhaps the place was an unadvertised sale and the realtor kept the electricity on so he could show the property to prospective buyers.
“Hey,” I said quietly, knowing the shade could hear me wherever he was. “Come out and talk to me.”
Jack stepped toward a big staircase curving to the next floor. And kept on stepping.
My eyes widened in surprise. “Jack, you can move around in here.” Normally, they’re only able to move around in my house, which is why they have to hitch rides with me or unsuspecting people when they leave it. I twisted my head to eye Mel, who still clung to my right shoulder. “Can you, Mel?”
She released me and took a tentative step. “Hey, I can!”
“Good. You can help me look for him.”
“Is this a case, an investigation,” Jack gabbled, excited.
“Unofficially, yeah.”
“Then we’re you’re assistant investigators!” Mel sounded delighted.
I rolled my eyes. “Call yourselves anything you like, just help me find the asshole.”
“We get paid, right?” from Jack.
“Sure.” I’d think of some way to “pay” them later. “Mel, you take upstairs. Jack, check out the basement.”
“I’m not going down there!”
“You baby.” Mel tossed her head. “I’ll go. You look upstairs.”
It was a big house. This would take some time if the shade tried to elude me, but if Jack or Mel spotted him, they could stay on his tail, or, hopefully, corner him. That he knew shades could move farther than the place of their death was unlikely; he’d think they’d trapped him.
Jack went up the staircase, for all the world looking like a living person. He even made a disgusted noise when his hand touched―appeared to touch―the cobwebbed banister. Mel disappeared through a door beneath the staircase, literally through the closed door.
I headed for an arched opening on my left,
I kept talking. Sometimes, talking to the deceased comforts them, knowing they’re not entirely alone, unseen, unheard.
I went through the ground floor, switching on the lights in each room. Another reception room, what might be a dining room, a library with bare, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, three more smaller rooms, a big kitchen, the appliances gone; a walk-in pantry, another little room with sink and counters, a laundry room, and a glass-walled conservatory in the rear. No furniture or decorative items left behind when Theo’s wife and kids moved away. Did they still owned it? Perhaps the wife thought nobody would want to purchase a house in which a murder occurred, or although she didn’t want to live here, couldn’t let go of a place which held good memories as well as bad. Maybe it took her this long to make the decision to sell.
Mel came back upstairs and joined me. “Nothing down there.”
“Let’s head upstairs and find Jack.” I slowly climbed the stairs, keeping my hands away from the dusty banister and cobwebs, talking to Theo the whole time, encouraging him to come to me.
“Jack!” I called when Mel and I reached the landing.
“Up here,” Jack’s voice came faintly. “In the attic.”
An attic. Oh, great. I loathe attics. “We’ll go through the bedrooms first,” I called back.
The place was huge. The landing spanned the front and east side of the house. I counted six big bedrooms, two with en suite bathrooms, two separate communal bathrooms, a big linen closet, and a room which from the jacks in the wall had been used as an office. The last door, at the end of the landing, opened to reveal a narrow, uncarpeted staircase.
Jack waited in the open doorway at the top. I flicked the light switch but nothing happened. The single bulb must have burned out. But the attic windows were not covered so a little street- and moonlight gave minimal illumination, although the edges of the room were dark. I looked past Jack at the bare space which covered the entire house and thanked the saints no rocking horse creaked inside―every scary movie which involves an attic has a rocking horse, right?
I put hands to hips. “Where is he?”
“Hiding from us in a house this size is easy,” Jack said.
“Why are we doing this, anyway,” said Mel. “Why can’t you sense where he is?”
Right then it struck me: I didn’t feel him. I felt a presence, all right, or presences. I thought I understood the problem. “I can sense a shade, but not always exactly where he or she or they are in a building. And with you here, I don’t know if I’m sensing him or you.”
“Bummer,” from Mel.
We’d been in the house for half an hour and Royal still waited outside. I imagined a score of lustful woman surrounding him by now. “Let’s get out of here. Maybe I’ll come back later.” After all, it’s not as if Theo could hurt anyone, or even scare them since only I could see him.
I was trying to do him a favor and felt miffed he hid from me.
Downstairs, a door slammed. I jumped a little.
“What was that?” Jack asked.
“Must be Royal, coming to find me.”
I started down the stairs with Mel and Jack following. As I came back to the landing, I heard footsteps, slow and heavy, and thought I heard a groan. I froze in the doorway.
“Is that Royal,” Mel whispered. Of course she and Jack always whisper, but a real whisper sounds different, lower and kind of hoarse.
A louder groan ground up from below. Oh my god, was Royal hurt?
“I’ll go look,” Jack said, and shot along the landing.
He skidded to a halt and stood there, immobile, for a second of two, then shot back. “Tiff, get out of here! Now!”
“What?” Instead of heeding him, I stepped to the banister and leaned over.
Someone―something―slowly clomped up the stairs. It raised its head and moaned at me.
I backed from the banister so fast, my spine hit the wall.
It was a big man. His face was gaunt and an unearthly gray, with tiny cuts and abrasions on his skin. Dark, sagging flesh surrounded his eyes and they were black. Half his hair was gone―I could see patches of scalp―and what remained looked dry, black and lifeless as his eyes. Beneath what remained of a blue T-shirt shirt, patches of skin were missing from his arms and chest, and what oozed from the wounds looked black and oily. His jeans hung in tatters and his feet were bare and dirty.
Another couple of clomps. I edged back to the banister and peered over. The man moaned again, and something which looked like liquid tar dribbled from the corners of his mouth.
“Upstairs!” Jack yelled in his whispering voice.
I couldn’t think straight. I back-stepped along the landing, turned, and tore up the steps to the attic. I slammed the door.
“He’s a zombie!” Jack’s shoulders were tight as he stood over by the slanting ceiling.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snorted.
“Then what’s that coming up the stairs,” Mel quavered.
A thump made the door judder.
“We’re trapped,” from Jack.
No, I was trapped. Nothing could hurt Jack and Mel. I flinched as the door juddered again.
Then the wood cracked.
The door came apart in jagged sections and the zombie stepped through. It came for me in typical zombie fashion, slowly, heavily, with arms outstretched and fingers curved into claws.
I put my back to the far wall and whispered, “This isn’t funny.”
Jack scuttled to a window and looked out. “My god, there are hundreds out there!”
The zombie apocalypse? It was real and had happened here in little old Clarion? I didn’t believe it.
“Royal,” I yelled. “I need you!”
Still moaning, the thing came on. It was only a few feet away. I didn’t know what to do except hit him. If he were some guy having fun at my expense, I’d hurt an innocent man. If it was a psycho, using a Halloween getup as a disguise to fool and get close to a victim, taking him down was my only defense.
Two feet away, near enough I had a good look at his face, the zombie bent over, held onto his knees and laughed so hard he almost lost his balance.
I wanted to sock him alongside the head, but instead shoved his shoulder. He fell over and landed on his butt, still laughing so hard, tears of mirth made streaks in his makeup.
I was so angry.
Jack’s shoulders shook so I knew he was laughing. Mel, finally getting the joke, joined in.
I stood over Royal, arms folded, fuming, and figured it out.
There were no footprints in the dust because the “pirate” was never in here. He was on the porch the whole time, waiting for me, and slipped around the side of the house when Royal spoke and distracted me. I didn’t sense his presence because he wasn’t dead. The cobwebs were artificial, the house only slightly dusty because it hadn’t been empty long. The power company hadn’t yet turned off the electricity.
And, finally, this was Garden Avenue. Theodore Granger and his family had lived on Wellington.
When Royal’s chortles died down, and I cooled down a fraction, I said, “Okay, how did you do it?”
Royal, in all his gore, looked up as he wiped his eyes. “I hid the clothes and makeup under my kilt.” He pulled off the wig to let his glorious copper-gold hair tumble free. “I changed and put on the makeup when you came in here.”
“I saw him doing it,” Jack chimed in.
So that’s why he looked out of the attic and pretended to see a street overrun with zombies. I glared at Jack, a silent we’ll talk about this later look.
“It just went back on the market after being empty for a couple of years. I know the realtor and he helped me out by taking down the for-sale sign and loaning me the front door key. I came in this morning with the artificial cobwebs and blew a little dust around to cover my footprints. ”
“The pirate?”
“Tom Murphy and his trick saber.”
“You tricky bastard,” Jack said admiringly.
“Officer Tom Murphy? And the door?” I nodded at the attic door with my chin.
“Ah, that.” Royal made a face. “I got carried away. I’ll get it replaced tomorrow morning before I return the key.”
“Suppose I brought a gun along? Did you think of that, mister smart ass?”
“I did, which is why I switched out your ammo for blanks.”
“And I bet you wanted me in the skintight, sparkly cat suit so I couldn’t carry a gun.”
He got to his feet. “No, Sweetheart. I wanted you in the cat suit so I could see every inch of your beautiful body.”
He put his hands on my waist, and I let him. “Every inch of your sexy, seductive body.”
I smiled as my anger faded beneath the regard of his smoky, heavy-lidded eyes. You can’t stay mad when your lover looks at you like that and his hands stroke your flanks, sending tingles through your body.
And there was always next Halloween. But why wait for my revenge that long, when April Fool’s Day was six months closer?
“Um, Jack,” Mel said. “We need to get out of here.”
“Yes, I see,” from Jack.
“You know what, Royal?” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “This is the best Halloween. Ever.”
And that’s how I came to in be a spooky old house, kissing a zombie on Halloween night.
We went downstairs hand in hand. Jack and Mel latched onto me as we approached the front door. We stepped outside, Royal produced a key and locked the door.
“Hey,” someone said.
A man stood at the bottom of the steps. He didn’t look at all like Johnny Depp but the eye patch and fluffy toy parrot taped to his shoulder made him a poor excuse for a pirate.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Officer Tom Murphy, “but I see you went ahead without me. How did that work out for you?”
If you enjoyed this “short” and would like to see more Whisperings stories here, please leave a comment here to let me know.
Tiff Takes on Halloween
A Halloween treat for Whisperings fans.
The Avenues were crazy with costumed kids tearing everywhere, parents yelling at them or waiting on the sidewalk while their little darlings threatened to trick if they didn’t get a treat. Lights shaped like orange and white striped candy corn, bats, cats and even eyeballs were strung from eaves, in porches and over windows. Vinyl blow-ups equipped with air pumps swayed on lawns: zombies, giant cats and spiders, black carriages, ghosts and a host more. And of course just about every house sported carved pumpkins; some were downright artistic.
“This is stupid,” I told Royal.
“Nonsense. Halloween isn’t just for children,” he replied with a smile.
I’d striped my silver-white hair with wash-out blue dye, used gray to ring my eyes and hollow my cheeks, and that was it. I wore a long, all-enveloping black cloak which hid my thick sweater, flannel-lined jeans and down-filled jacket. Most of the little trick-or-treaters looked fat with layers of clothes beneath their costumes. All of Royal’s suggestions for my costume fell in the sultry and half-naked category, but it was bitter out here.
Royal, who doesn’t feel the cold, was a highlander. His copper-gold hair hung loose on his shoulders and down his back. He wore a plaid kilt, sporran, argyle socks, sandals and nothing else except a kind of bandolier minus bullets across his naked chest, and he carried a saber. He’d painted half his face blue to look like woad.
A lot of smooth, bronzed, muscular Royal was on show. I would have been happier if he’d worn something less revealing. Women and teen girls leered at him and one woman even licked her lips in a very suggestive manner, until I caught her eye.
I’d have been happier if I didn’t carry two passengers. Although I couldn’t feel them, Mel and Jack clung to me as if velcroed on. They were thrilled to experience Halloween again after years of being stuck in my house. We did have an awkward moment when Jack accidentally lost hold of me. He could have tacked on to other folk until he caught up, but instead waited behind and grizzled like a baby. I was tempted to leave him, but being the compassionate woman I am, pretended I’d dropped my car keys and going back in search of them allowed him to attach to me again.
“Dale and I went as a horse one year,” Jack said.
“Oh, which end were you?” Mel asked.
“The rear. After that, every time we argued he called me a horse’s ass.”
“Argued a lot, did you?”
“You know what they say about making up,” Jack said with a smirk in his voice.
As always, ignoring them was difficult, but I didn’t want to spoil Royal’s evening by telling him my roommates had hitched a ride.
“Royal, we hardly ever argue,” I said.
His arm went over my shoulders and I felt his heat on the back of my neck. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“But don’t couples argue a lot? Isn’t it part of being together?”
He smiled with a flash of white, even teeth. “Don’t look for problems when there are none.”
He was right, of course. We weren’t perfect but we were happy.
We were here―according to Royal―for the ambience, the fun and excitement of the holiday. I watched the kiddies toting loaded treat bags and wouldn’t have objected to some candy. If we’d stayed home and handed out treats to the kids, I could have filched some.
We paused outside a grand old house. Like many in The Avenues, it had deep eaves and cookie-cutter moldings around the windows and front door, and a long, wide porch. Heavy shutters covered the windows, the little front yard a tangle of rose bushes and long grass, and dead leaves littered the wood steps leading up to the door. Apart from neglect, the house appeared to be in good repair. An abandoned house in The Avenues, the “in” place to live here in Clarion, was unusual.
From out of the deeply shadowed porch, a pirate galloped down the steps and thrust his sword in Royal’s back.
“Eek!” Jack and Mel shrieked in unison.
As if the breath in my body turned to lead, I couldn’t breathe and struggled to pull air into my lungs. My arms jerked and hands shook as I waved at his torso.
“Tiff?” Royal went into a defensive half-crouch and looked around in alarm.
My breath returned with a whoosh. I stared at the pirate. The pirate, naturally, was a Captain Jack Sparrow look alike, except as well as the sword he held, another sword stuck through his chest.
He stared back at me. “Oh, shit,” he exclaimed, and tore back up the stairs, taking his sword with him.
Fuck. One of them.
“Wait!” I yelled and ran up the stairs after him.
“What are you doing?” Royal called from behind me.
I half turned and almost stumbled. “Wait there, Royal. I won’t be long.”
But he came after me. “You can’t go in there, Tiff.”
I stopped and teetered on the step. “It’s one of them, babe. I’ll be right back. Promise.”
He briefly closed his eyes, opened them as he threw out his hands. He knows I like to be alone when I talk to a shade. “Can’t we go anywhere. . . ,” he began, then let his hands fall as if in defeat. “Just be careful in there.”
I nodded jerkily and continued up to the porch. To my surprise, the doorknob turned and with a shove the door opened. It creaked.
I stood in a hall of wood floors and paneled walls. Streetlight from outside made a narrow trail over the floor. No tracks marred the slightly dusty boards, so no living person had been here for some time. I looked over my shoulder at the street and Royal standing in the front yard.
Jack and Mel had been babbling since the pirate stabbed Royal. I’d tuned them out, but now their voices hammered in my ears. “Shut up!” I growled.
Jack gulped. They shut up.
I took another step, and stopped as a memory hit me. “I got it! Fourteen years ago on Halloween. The guy was an actor, worked for a local production company. His teen nephew killed him. He was stoned and thought the sword was a prop.” This must be the house.
“Oh, yes, that was so sad,” Mel sighed.
What was his name? Tom? Terry? Theodore! Yes, Theo Granger.
“Theo?” I softly called as I continued on to what appeared to be a large reception room. “I know you can hear me. Come talk to me. I can’t hurt you.”
Then I remembered I couldn’t help him, either. His nephew was alive after serving time in a maximum security juvenile facility, now free but living in another state. If his nephew grew into old age and died a natural death, Theo would have to wait a long time to pass over to wherever shades of the dead go.
With the windows covered, I’d be in the dark once I moved farther into the house, and I didn’t have a flashlight.
“Damn,” I muttered, swiping at a nearby light switch in frustration.
The lights came on.
Well I’ll be damned. The owners hadn’t had the electricity turned off? But they left here fourteen years ago. I’m not a person who looks a gift horse in the mouth, but this made me suspicious. No doubt I was overreacting; perhaps the place was an unadvertised sale and the realtor kept the electricity on so he could show the property to prospective buyers.
“Hey,” I said quietly, knowing the shade could hear me wherever he was. “Come out and talk to me.”
Jack stepped toward a big staircase curving to the next floor. And kept on stepping.
My eyes widened in surprise. “Jack, you can move around in here.” Normally, they’re only able to move around in my house, which is why they have to hitch rides with me or unsuspecting people when they leave it. I twisted my head to eye Mel, who still clung to my right shoulder. “Can you, Mel?”
She released me and took a tentative step. “Hey, I can!”
“Good. You can help me look for him.”
“Is this a case, an investigation,” Jack gabbled, excited.
“Unofficially, yeah.”
“Then we’re you’re assistant investigators!” Mel sounded delighted.
I rolled my eyes. “Call yourselves anything you like, just help me find the asshole.”
“We get paid, right?” from Jack.
“Sure.” I’d think of some way to “pay” them later. “Mel, you take upstairs. Jack, check out the basement.”
“I’m not going down there!”
“You baby.” Mel tossed her head. “I’ll go. You look upstairs.”
It was a big house. This would take some time if the shade tried to elude me, but if Jack or Mel spotted him, they could stay on his tail, or, hopefully, corner him. That he knew shades could move farther than the place of their death was unlikely; he’d think they’d trapped him.
Jack went up the staircase, for all the world looking like a living person. He even made a disgusted noise when his hand touched―appeared to touch―the cobwebbed banister. Mel disappeared through a door beneath the staircase, literally through the closed door.
I headed for an arched opening on my left,
I kept talking. Sometimes, talking to the deceased comforts them, knowing they’re not entirely alone, unseen, unheard.
I went through the ground floor, switching on the lights in each room. Another reception room, what might be a dining room, a library with bare, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, three more smaller rooms, a big kitchen, the appliances gone; a walk-in pantry, another little room with sink and counters, a laundry room, and a glass-walled conservatory in the rear. No furniture or decorative items left behind when Theo’s wife and kids moved away. Did they still owned it? Perhaps the wife thought nobody would want to purchase a house in which a murder occurred, or although she didn’t want to live here, couldn’t let go of a place which held good memories as well as bad. Maybe it took her this long to make the decision to sell.
Mel came back upstairs and joined me. “Nothing down there.”
“Let’s head upstairs and find Jack.” I slowly climbed the stairs, keeping my hands away from the dusty banister and cobwebs, talking to Theo the whole time, encouraging him to come to me.
“Jack!” I called when Mel and I reached the landing.
“Up here,” Jack’s voice came faintly. “In the attic.”
An attic. Oh, great. I loathe attics. “We’ll go through the bedrooms first,” I called back.
The place was huge. The landing spanned the front and east side of the house. I counted six big bedrooms, two with en suite bathrooms, two separate communal bathrooms, a big linen closet, and a room which from the jacks in the wall had been used as an office. The last door, at the end of the landing, opened to reveal a narrow, uncarpeted staircase.
Jack waited in the open doorway at the top. I flicked the light switch but nothing happened. The single bulb must have burned out. But the attic windows were not covered so a little street- and moonlight gave minimal illumination, although the edges of the room were dark. I looked past Jack at the bare space which covered the entire house and thanked the saints no rocking horse creaked inside―every scary movie which involves an attic has a rocking horse, right?
I put hands to hips. “Where is he?”
“Hiding from us in a house this size is easy,” Jack said.
“Why are we doing this, anyway,” said Mel. “Why can’t you sense where he is?”
Right then it struck me: I didn’t feel him. I felt a presence, all right, or presences. I thought I understood the problem. “I can sense a shade, but not always exactly where he or she or they are in a building. And with you here, I don’t know if I’m sensing him or you.”
“Bummer,” from Mel.
We’d been in the house for half an hour and Royal still waited outside. I imagined a score of lustful woman surrounding him by now. “Let’s get out of here. Maybe I’ll come back later.” After all, it’s not as if Theo could hurt anyone, or even scare them since only I could see him.
I was trying to do him a favor and felt miffed he hid from me.
Downstairs, a door slammed. I jumped a little.
“What was that?” Jack asked.
“Must be Royal, coming to find me.”
I started down the stairs with Mel and Jack following. As I came back to the landing, I heard footsteps, slow and heavy, and thought I heard a groan. I froze in the doorway.
“Is that Royal,” Mel whispered. Of course she and Jack always whisper, but a real whisper sounds different, lower and kind of hoarse.
A louder groan ground up from below. Oh my god, was Royal hurt?
“I’ll go look,” Jack said, and shot along the landing.
He skidded to a halt and stood there, immobile, for a second of two, then shot back. “Tiff, get out of here! Now!”
“What?” Instead of heeding him, I stepped to the banister and leaned over.
Someone―something―slowly clomped up the stairs. It raised its head and moaned at me.
I backed from the banister so fast, my spine hit the wall.
It was a big man. His face was gaunt and an unearthly gray, with tiny cuts and abrasions on his skin. Dark, sagging flesh surrounded his eyes and they were black. Half his hair was gone―I could see patches of scalp―and what remained looked dry, black and lifeless as his eyes. Beneath what remained of a blue T-shirt shirt, patches of skin were missing from his arms and chest, and what oozed from the wounds looked black and oily. His jeans hung in tatters and his feet were bare and dirty.
Another couple of clomps. I edged back to the banister and peered over. The man moaned again, and something which looked like liquid tar dribbled from the corners of his mouth.
“Upstairs!” Jack yelled in his whispering voice.
I couldn’t think straight. I back-stepped along the landing, turned, and tore up the steps to the attic. I slammed the door.
“He’s a zombie!” Jack’s shoulders were tight as he stood over by the slanting ceiling.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snorted.
“Then what’s that coming up the stairs,” Mel quavered.
A thump made the door judder.
“We’re trapped,” from Jack.
No, I was trapped. Nothing could hurt Jack and Mel. I flinched as the door juddered again.
Then the wood cracked.
The door came apart in jagged sections and the zombie stepped through. It came for me in typical zombie fashion, slowly, heavily, with arms outstretched and fingers curved into claws.
I put my back to the far wall and whispered, “This isn’t funny.”
Jack scuttled to a window and looked out. “My god, there are hundreds out there!”
The zombie apocalypse? It was real and had happened here in little old Clarion? I didn’t believe it.
“Royal,” I yelled. “I need you!”
Still moaning, the thing came on. It was only a few feet away. I didn’t know what to do except hit him. If he were some guy having fun at my expense, I’d hurt an innocent man. If it was a psycho, using a Halloween getup as a disguise to fool and get close to a victim, taking him down was my only defense.
Two feet away, near enough I had a good look at his face, the zombie bent over, held onto his knees and laughed so hard he almost lost his balance.
I wanted to sock him alongside the head, but instead shoved his shoulder. He fell over and landed on his butt, still laughing so hard, tears of mirth made streaks in his makeup.
I was so angry.
Jack’s shoulders shook so I knew he was laughing. Mel, finally getting the joke, joined in.
I stood over Royal, arms folded, fuming, and figured it out.
There were no footprints in the dust because the “pirate” was never in here. He was on the porch the whole time, waiting for me, and slipped around the side of the house when Royal spoke and distracted me. I didn’t sense his presence because he wasn’t dead. The cobwebs were artificial, the house only slightly dusty because it hadn’t been empty long. The power company hadn’t yet turned off the electricity.
And, finally, this was Garden Avenue. Theodore Granger and his family had lived on Wellington.
When Royal’s chortles died down, and I cooled down a fraction, I said, “Okay, how did you do it?”
Royal, in all his gore, looked up as he wiped his eyes. “I hid the clothes and makeup under my kilt.” He pulled off the wig to let his glorious copper-gold hair tumble free. “I changed and put on the makeup when you came in here.”
“I saw him doing it,” Jack chimed in.
So that’s why he looked out of the attic and pretended to see a street overrun with zombies. I glared at Jack, a silent we’ll talk about this later look.
“It just went back on the market after being empty for a couple of years. I know the realtor and he helped me out by taking down the for-sale sign and loaning me the front door key. I came in this morning with the artificial cobwebs and blew a little dust around to cover my footprints. ”
“The pirate?”
“Tom Murphy and his trick saber.”
“You tricky bastard,” Jack said admiringly.
“Officer Tom Murphy? And the door?” I nodded at the attic door with my chin.
“Ah, that.” Royal made a face. “I got carried away. I’ll get it replaced tomorrow morning before I return the key.”
“Suppose I brought a gun along? Did you think of that, mister smart ass?”
“I did, which is why I switched out your ammo for blanks.”
“And I bet you wanted me in the skintight, sparkly cat suit so I couldn’t carry a gun.”
He got to his feet. “No, Sweetheart. I wanted you in the cat suit so I could see every inch of your beautiful body.”
He put his hands on my waist, and I let him. “Every inch of your sexy, seductive body.”
I smiled as my anger faded beneath the regard of his smoky, heavy-lidded eyes. You can’t stay mad when your lover looks at you like that and his hands stroke your flanks, sending tingles through your body.
And there was always next Halloween. But why wait for my revenge that long, when April Fool’s Day was six months closer?
“Um, Jack,” Mel said. “We need to get out of here.”
“Yes, I see,” from Jack.
“You know what, Royal?” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “This is the best Halloween. Ever.”
And that’s how I came to in be a spooky old house, kissing a zombie on Halloween night.
We went downstairs hand in hand. Jack and Mel latched onto me as we approached the front door. We stepped outside, Royal produced a key and locked the door.
“Hey,” someone said.
A man stood at the bottom of the steps. He didn’t look at all like Johnny Depp but the eye patch and fluffy toy parrot taped to his shoulder made him a poor excuse for a pirate.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Officer Tom Murphy, “but I see you went ahead without me. How did that work out for you?”
If you enjoyed this “short” and would like to see more Whisperings stories here, please leave a comment here to let me know.
October 8, 2013
Your opportunity for creepy Halloween reads and help the animals!
Curiosity Quills Press brings together bestselling authors like J.R. Rain, Tony Healey, A.W. Exley, and more to create a spine-tingling, mind-blowing, quirky collection of short stories in their first ever, annual Curiosity Quills: Primetime Anthology. 10% of every purchase will go straight to animals in need. The CQ team has selected humane societies on both the East and West coast that spend well and do not stray from their “no-kill” policies. Included Short Stories:
And Death Shall Have No Dominion – K.H. Koehler. Sometimes dead really is better… but not always attainable.
A Nick Englebrecht short. Cyber Cowboy – James Wymore. An accountant, separated from the woman he loves, must decide if he has what it takes to save her from the horrible fate dealt when the Actuator turns her half of the city into a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
Dark Orb – Tony Healey. It’s 1985 and young George is going to encounter some of the darkness that people face in their lives, and come to understand how they manage to live with it… if they are able to.
Ephemera – Gerilyn Marin. While touring a house for signs of a paranormal activity, amateur psychic consultant Giselle Boudreaux has a frightening encounter unlike anything she’s experienced before.
The Fridge – J.R. Rain. A man buys a top-of-the-line kitchen appliance and watches, horrified, how it quickly puts his life on ice. But when he wins and manages to put himself out of its reach by what most would call spectacularly losing, the FRIDGE has the last laugh.
Ghost Placers – Nina Post. When the owner of a ghost relocation service gets the chance to land a lucrative contract that would change his life forever, he must decide if achieving the success he’s always dreamed of is really worth the cost.
Gothic Gwen – A.W. Exley. It’s not the constant taunts from the other kids driving sixteen year old Gwen bat shit crazy, but the white hot pain spiking through her brain. Seeking refuge in her small sanctuary, she wants to know why, just for once, can’t the cosmos cut a girl some slack?
How I Killed the Drama – Mike Robinson. A traveling salesman, staying overnight in an out-of-the-way hotel, stumbles upon the astonishing secret of humankind’s every teardrop and every turmoil, and resolves to take advantage.
Mad Science – Sharon Bayliss. Nothing can stand in the way of Heather marrying her true love. Even her fiancee’s death. Both love and science are best when done madly…
On the Rocks – William Vitka. In the quest for Earth’s resources, there is space…and there is madness in the black.
Razor Child – Michael Shean. In a society so glittering, it feels like shards of ice cutting through tender skin, there arises a Mother that feeds Her Razor children enough of a pap of truth and lies to make them do anything with a madman’s smile. Literally anything.
Sinergy – A.E. Propher & Grace Eyre. Antoine DeLongville, once a high-ranking member of the Catholic Church, flees from the secretive Order after he discovers their plot to target the only woman he’s ever loved. His journey is marked with both extreme danger and remarkable fortune, as if unseen forces are waging a war over his fate.
Tell Us Everything – Randy Attwood. Goth girl connects her piercings to perceive the truths around her and starts broadcasting the news.
The Caw – Eliza Tilton. Lena’s plan is to spend one perfect night with Johnny Ridge; regardless if it’s in a creepy cemetery, but as the night twists, and her best friend disappears, Lena discovers some things are more terrifying than the dead.
The Damned and the Dangerous – Michael Panush. La Cruz looks like an average Southern California small town, but it has some dark secrets – and it has its guardians. They are the supernaturally adept drivers of Donovan Motors, including zombie greaser Roscoe, who stand between La Cruz and chaos with only their wits and some fast hot rods to help them.
The Last Carnivale – Vicki Keire. Roaming the forbidden surface of her burnt and twisted world, the princess of ash and cinders finds hope one day too late.
The Milgram Battery – Matthew Graybosch .Obedience isn’t always a virtue, and defiance isn’t always a sin.
The Notebook – Randy Attwood. College professor returns to his student apartment to see if a notebook he left in the attic is still there; some truths are better left untold.
The Pearl – Rand B. Lee. Fantasy lovers are inexorably drawn to the borderlands of consensus reality. In this story, Rand B. Lee explores the twilight realm between death and afterlife from the viewpoint of one of society’s most despised castoffs.
Trevor – Nathan Yocum. Cargo Specialist Trevor Ponsi wakes up for his shift–just like any other day. Oddly enough, the crew has vanished, the vessel is wildly off-course, and the ship’s AI insists on holding Trevor hostage until he can win a round of tic-tac-toe. What exactly happened while he was asleep?
Official Primetime page Goodreads Amazon US Amazon UK Barnes and Noble Kobo
And have fun at the Facebook Party
Primetime’s steamier counterpart, Curiosity Quills: After Dark, where bestselling authors like A.W. Exley, Nathan L. Yocum, Jose Prendes, Jade Hart, and more come together to bring you hard-hitting, sexy, violent, and dark short stories to read when the sun has gone down and the kids are in bed. Just like its twin, 10% of every purchase will go straight to animals in need. The CQ team has selected humane societies on both the East and West coast that spend well and do not stray from their “no-kill” policies. Included Short Stories:
Mirror Amour – Jade Hart. When a sex circus plants itself unapologetically in the middle of her busy life, a young microbiologist finds herself tumbling headlong into a night of unbridled sensuality that takes her straight to a fork in the road that will forever shred her comfy boring world.
Pop Star Fist Fight – Jose Prendes. A handful of midgets. Two starlets. One shot at a title of the Queen of Pop. Fame Fucking Hurts.
Precious Blood – Gerilyn Marin. Weary of her existence as a vampire, Annalese seeks the truth to a legend which says she may live again if she consumes the blood of a fallen angel. Misunderstandings, and a not necessarily willing Fallen One, bring about an unforeseen turn of events.
The Quark Machine – Nathan Yocum. Professor Northwip invents an AI computer that can self-replicate on a nano-scale. His exploration of infinitely small realities is cut short when he suddenly wakes up naked on an island with no memories of how he got there. What perilous dangers has Professor Northwip unleashed? Who fears the true nature of the Quark Machine?
The Quarry – A W Exley. Jema Johnson delivers a pounding in the court room, but it’s the pounding at the base of her skull draining her spirit and sanity, until a one night encounter in a club offers far more than a headache cure.
When Pigs Fly – A.E. Propher. A mother writes a farewell letter to her adopted son before being shipped off to a concentration camp for those inflicted with HVV, Human Vampirism Virus.
Official After Dark page Goodreads Amazon US Amazon UK Barnes and Noble Kobo
Your opportunity for a creepy Halloween read and help the animals!
Anyone who knows me, knows I am passionate about animal welfare, so I’m delighted to have this opportunity to spread the word about a fabulous new book, a story collection put together by talented authors, of which 10% will go to animal humane societies with no-kill policies. Please read what Curiosity Quills Press has to say. Get the book for a perfectly creepy Halloween read and help the animals at the same time!
Curiosity Quills Press brings together bestselling authors like J.R. Rain, Tony Healey, A.W. Exley, and more to create a spine-tingling, mind-blowing, quirky collection of short stories in their first ever, annual Curiosity Quills: Primetime Anthology.
10% of every purchase will go straight to animals in need. The CQ team has selected humane societies on both the East and West coast that spend well and do not stray from their “no-kill” policies. Included Short Stories:
And Death Shall Have No Dominion – K.H. Koehler Sometimes dead really is better… but not always attainable.
A Nick Englebrecht short. Cyber Cowboy – James Wymore An accountant, separated from the woman he loves, must decide if he has what it takes to save her from the horrible fate dealt when the Actuator turns her half of the city into a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
Dark Orb – Tony Healey It’s 1985 and young George is going to encounter some of the darkness that people face in their lives, and come to understand how they manage to live with it… if they are able to.
Ephemera – Gerilyn Marin While touring a house for signs of a paranormal activity, amateur psychic consultant Giselle Boudreaux has a frightening encounter unlike anything she’s experienced before.
The Fridge – J.R. Rain A man buys a top-of-the-line kitchen appliance and watches, horrified, how it quickly puts his life on ice. But when he wins and manages to put himself out of its reach by what most would call spectacularly losing, the FRIDGE has the last laugh.
Ghost Placers – Nina Post When the owner of a ghost relocation service gets the chance to land a lucrative contract that would change his life forever, he must decide if achieving the success he’s always dreamed of is really worth the cost.
Gothic Gwen – A.W. Exley It’s not the constant taunts from the other kids driving sixteen year old Gwen bat shit crazy, but the white hot pain spiking through her brain. Seeking refuge in her small sanctuary, she wants to know why, just for once, can’t the cosmos cut a girl some slack?
How I Killed the Drama – Mike Robinson A traveling salesman, staying overnight in an out-of-the-way hotel, stumbles upon the astonishing secret of humankind’s every teardrop and every turmoil, and resolves to take advantage.
Mad Science – Sharon Bayliss Nothing can stand in the way of Heather marrying her true love. Even her fiancee’s death. Both love and science are best when done madly…
On the Rocks – William Vitka In the quest for Earth’s resources, there is space…and there is madness in the black.
Razor Child – Michael Shean In a society so glittering, it feels like shards of ice cutting through tender skin, there arises a Mother that feeds Her Razor children enough of a pap of truth and lies to make them do anything with a madman’s smile. Literally anything.
Sinergy – A.E. Propher & Grace Eyre Antoine DeLongville, once a high-ranking member of the Catholic Church, flees from the secretive Order after he discovers their plot to target the only woman he’s ever loved. His journey is marked with both extreme danger and remarkable fortune, as if unseen forces are waging a war over his fate.
Tell Us Everything – Randy Attwood Goth girl connects her piercings to perceive the truths around her and starts broadcasting the news.
The Caw – Eliza Tilton Lena’s plan is to spend one perfect night with Johnny Ridge; regardless if it’s in a creepy cemetery, but as the night twists, and her best friend disappears, Lena discovers some things are more terrifying than the dead.
The Damned and the Dangerous – Michael Panush La Cruz looks like an average Southern California small town, but it has some dark secrets – and it has its guardians. They are the supernaturally adept drivers of Donovan Motors, including zombie greaser Roscoe, who stand between La Cruz and chaos with only their wits and some fast hot rods to help them.
The Last Carnivale – Vicki Keire Roaming the forbidden surface of her burnt and twisted world, the princess of ash and cinders finds hope one day too late.
The Milgram Battery – Matthew Graybosch Obedience isn’t always a virtue, and defiance isn’t always a sin.
The Notebook – Randy Attwood College professor returns to his student apartment to see if a notebook he left in the attic is still there; some truths are better left untold.
The Pearl – Rand B. Lee Fantasy lovers are inexorably drawn to the borderlands of consensus reality. In this story, Rand B. Lee explores the twilight realm between death and afterlife from the viewpoint of one of society’s most despised castoffs.
Trevor – Nathan Yocum Cargo Specialist Trevor Ponsi wakes up for his shift–just like any other day. Oddly enough, the crew has vanished, the vessel is wildly off-course, and the ship’s AI insists on holding Trevor hostage until he can win a round of tic-tac-toe. What exactly happened while he was asleep?
Official Primetime page Goodreads Amazon US Amazon UK Barnes and Noble Kobo
And have fun at the Facebook Party
September 20, 2013
Giveaway #2 – Halloween goodies.
Congratulations Teresa! You won Giveaway #1 and the goodies are on their way.
The winner of Giveaway #2 will get some cool Halloween swag. A sparkly black skull, sparkly silver spider, 12″ skull and bones tapered candles, a Boo badge, a “Give me a Bone” ceramic bone, a tooth and bone bracelet, and (not shown) an Amazon gift card $25 or equivalent if the winner does not reside in the USA.
To enter, go to Linda Welch Writing on Facebook and comment on the post: Giveaway #2.
This giveaway is from today September 20th thru Tuesday September 24th. Good luck!
September 17, 2013
Now Available – Downside Rain, an urban fantasy novel.
Downside Rain is now available as an e-book from online retailers A pple iTunes, Amazon US, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble Nook.
Another place lies palm to palm with the world we know. Downside, Earth’s backdoor, where magic, madness and monstrosities abide; where rain falls from a cloudless red sky and neon pulses day and night.
A fallen angel in a derelict tower weeps crystal tears.
A powerful man hides a dark secret.
Wraiths skim through the streets, hunting monsters.
Rain and her partner Castle are wraiths. They will take almost any assignment, providing it’s legal and pays well. They specialize in ridding Gettaholt City of monsters, be they mischievous but relatively benign sprites, or ghouls which don’t limit their feasting to the already dead. The partners are also ears and eyes for Alain Sauvageau; unnoticed, the pair glean useful information for the crime lord. Rain would be happier working for Alain if he didn’t try to get into her pants, but she refuses to be the reigning lothario’s latest in a long line of affairs and jilted lovers.
Rain goes Upside on a mission for Alain and while there discovers River, a wraith who knows nothing of Downside. She is duty bound to introduce him to Downside society, an obligation she resents. When she’s marked for death, she must survive attacks by demons and Gettaholt citizens compelled by powerful magic. Who is trying to kill her, and why? Is River friend or foe? Can a wraith die twice?
September 12, 2013
GIVEAWAY #1
To celebrate the upcoming release of Downside Rain, I’d like to give away some swag. None of it is book-related, but is FUN stuff! There will be three giveaways, and winning one of them will not disqualify you from winning in another.
Local friends call me Queenie. Why? I’m an Englishwoman, a fan of the British Royal Family, and I still have my English accent despite living in the US for many years. So, Giveaway #1 is Queen themed.
You’ll win a brown, baseball-style hat fit for a Queen, a cute “Queen” hanging sign to let everyone know you’re in charge, a lovely bangle-style bracelet and a $25 Amazon gift card to be used for anything in the Amazon store.
I liked the bangle so much, I got one for myself. It has pics of queens and sentences which include “no one says NO to a Queen.”
How to enter? Go to my Facebook page Linda Welch Writing and “Like” it, if you haven’t already. Leave a comment on the Giveaway #1 post. You can just say hi, hello, g’day – anything you want to. The new Facebook Rafflecopter app will choose a winner.
This Giveaway will run from today September 12th thru September 19th. If you’d like your friends and family to have the opportunity to enter, please spread the word!
September 2, 2013
Coming September 2013
RAIN
“Don’t imagine they’re fantasy come to life. Upside tales made them pretty and ennobled some. Fairies control the black market for jewelry and amulets carved from human bones. Elves are pimps, thieves, assassins. Werekin are animals trapped in human skin. And a damsel in distress had better know how to slay the dragon ’cause no knight in shining armor’s going to do it for her.”
CASTLE
With his height and bulk, Castle can be mistaken for a young thug.
“I’ll be here.”
“Will you?”
“Always.”
RIVER
“When we touch, you make me whole.”
ALAIN
“There is a difference between lust and desire. I desire you more than any woman I’ve known.”
“He’s ruthless in his business dealings and those who cross him have a habit of disappearing.”
Another place lies palm to palm with the world we know. Downside, Earth’s backdoor, where magic, madness and monstrosities abide; where rain falls from a cloudless red sky and neon pulses day and night.
A fallen angel in a derelict tower weeps crystal tears.
A powerful man hides a dark secret.
Wraiths skim through the streets, hunting monsters.
Rain and her partner Castle are wraiths. They will take almost any assignment, providing it’s legal and pays well. They specialize in ridding Gettaholt City of monsters, be they mischievous but relatively benign sprites, or ghouls that don’t limit their feasting to the already dead. The partners are also ears and eyes for Alain Sauvageau; unnoticed, the pair glean useful information for the crime lord. Rain would be happier working for Alain were he not always trying to get into her pants, but she refuses to be the reigning lothario’s latest in a long line of affairs and jilted lovers.
Rain goes Upside on a mission for Alain and while there discovers River, a wraith who knows nothing of Downside. She is duty bound to introduce him to Downside society, an obligation she resents. When she is marked for death, she must survive attacks by demons and Gettaholt citizens compelled by powerful magic. Who is trying to kill her, and why? Is River friend of foe? Can a wraith die twice?
DOWNSIDE RAIN
A dark urban fantasy novel.
Coming soon to Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook, Sony iTunes and KoboBooks.
