Seth Tucker's Blog, page 14

Back from Connooga with a free gift

Hey everyone, just got back home from Connooga.  It was a great show.  I was on some incredible panels, got to meet some great people, and had a fun time.  Because the show went so well, and I want to welcome the newcomers to the site and give something to my tried and true viewers, I will be offering Friends Don’t Let Friends be Undead on the Kindle for free.  This will run from Monday, February 22 until the end of day on Tuesday, February 23.  Just click the cover below to go to the page and pick up your free copy of this e-short.  Thanks for stopping by and keep coming back to see what I’m up to.

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: author, con, Connooga, eshort, free, horror, monster, promotion, scary, short, story, vampire, vampires, writer, writing

Connooga Schedule

Next weekend, I will be attending Connooga (February 19-21) in Chattanooga, TN.  Last year was my first year as a guest of the con (my first-time as a guest at any con).  Connooga is a fun con that is growing, but has not reached that apex peak like conventions such as Comic-con or Dragoncon.  Good guests, fun panels, great cosplay, and diverse vendors/artists/authors make this my favorite con in the Southeast right now.

A few people have asked about any panels that I am apart of, and I now have a schedule for those.

Friday

Scary Story Time – 7:00

Saturday

Horror of Sci-Fi – 12:00

Early American Serial Killers – 1:00

Sunday

Research for Writers: Getting It Right – 10:00

Writing Tales of Terror – 1:00

When I am not on a panel, I will be at a booth with my wife and cover artist, selling copies of my books and her artwork or wondering the con taking a little break.  So, please drop by and say hello, or if some of these panels catch your eye drop by and enjoy.  Hope to see you next weekend, and keep checking back to find out what I’m up to.

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: appearances, art, artist, author, books, con, Connooga, convention, dragoncon, fun, panels, schedule, writer, writing

Book Review: Half-Made Girls

Book 1 in the Pitchfork County series

Synopsis: Joe Hark is a drunk, a live wire, and the night marshal of Pitchfork County. He just wants the monsters, including his own cursed family, to leave him alone long enough to drown his haunted memories in an ocean of whiskey. When someone hangs a mutilated girl from a cross, it’s just the start of Joe’s latest nightmare.

As he hunts for the killer, Joe finds a nest of meth-addled cultists with roots in his own tortured past. It turns out his enemies want to call up a nightmarish god so vile, it’ll eviscerate Joe, his family, and the world at large.

Joe has no choice but to team up with unlikely allies in a winner-takes-all battle. When the power of the cult grows, Joe learns the only way to stop the destruction may be his own sacrifice.

Review: If Justified starred Harry Dresden. The main character in this book is the Night Marshal, a lawman charged with taking care of the things that choose the left-hand path. He has various supernatural means to protect himself and fight the monsters in Pitchfork County, but with this new case, things are starting to change. A fun read that keeps you turning the pages, Half-Made Girls was our first glimpse into the meth-filled county, and its memorable inhabitants. Sam Witt has created memorable and likable characters, while also building a county that feels real with its own history. Hints of the county’s past and the various “religious” groups within it helped to add to the realism of this world rather than bog it down in exposition. Mr. Witt knows how to write one fine yarn.

Price: Free for your Kindle.  Just click on the cover above to get your copy.

 

Filed under: Book Review Tagged: action, book, Dresden, Dresden file, ebook, free, horror, Justified, kindle, mystery, review, writer, writing

A quick note

Hey everyone, I hope your first month of 2016 has gone well.  I’ve been busy and just wanted to give everyone a heads-up about what’s been happening.

The short story that I promised will be released between Winston & Baum books 3 & 4 is finished (first draft only).  It is part of a series that started with Brackish’s story in the back of Winston & Baum and the Disk of Night.  I am calling them the Tales of the Hunters.  Each of them will focus on hunters from the Winston & Baum world.  They are characters that you’ve met, but I wanted to explore other hunters and adventures set in this world.  So, the first of these is drafted.  I’ve finished the rough draft of the fourth Winston & Baum steampunk adventure (still no title yet).  I’m mostly done with the rough drafts of the other two stories in the hunters series, which will follow book 4.

Last year was a steam-driven adventure for sure.  I was able to go to more conventions and meet more people.  I’ll be going back to Connooga in February.  I’ll post my panel schedule when the show is closer, but if you can, please come out and see my talented wife & cover artist and myself.  It’s always nice to meet you wonderful people.

Once I’m done with the other two hunter shorts, I’m going to write something else.  I don’t know what yet, but just something to cleanse my palette before I head back to the world of Winston & Baum for the fifth novel.

Thanks for reading and keep stopping by to see what I’ll be up to next.

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: adventure, appearances, book, con, Connooga, ebook, fantasy, horror, scifi, short, short story, steam punk, steampunk, victorian, writer, writing

Great Reads for Christmas

I know, it is only a week until Christmas and some of you are looking for that perfect holiday read.  I can recommend two.

Krampus: The Yule Lord by Brom

Synopsis:  One Christmas Eve in a small hollow in Boone County, West Virginia, struggling songwriter Jesse Walker witnesses a strange spectacle: seven devilish figures chasing a man in a red suit toward a sleigh and eight reindeer. When the reindeer leap skyward taking the sleigh, devil men, and Santa into the clouds, screams follow. Moments later, a large sack plummets earthward, a magical sack that will thrust the down-on-his luck singer into the clutches of the terrifying Yule Lord, Krampus. But the lines between good and evil become blurred as Jesse’s new master reveals many dark secrets about the cherry-cheeked Santa Claus, and how half a millennium ago, the jolly old saint imprisoned Krampus and usurped his magic.

Now Santa’s time is running short, for the Yule Lord is determined to have his retribution and reclaim Yuletide. If Jesse can survive this ancient feud, he might have the chance to redeem himself to his family, to save his own broken dreams…and help bring the magic of Yule to the impoverished folk of Boone County.

I have read this book and thoroughly enjoyed it.  It is by far not your traditional Christmas story.  Click on the cover below for the Kindle version for only $1.99.

And speaking of classics, my second recommendation is Charles Dickens’ eternal classic: A Christmas Carol, I am sure most of you know this timeless tale of a miserable old man who is visited by three ghosts to teach him the meaning of Christmas and spare him from a horrible afterlife.  I read this book for the first time last year and can honestly say that so many of the adaptations leave out some of the little things that make this a much more enriching story.  If you click on the link below, you will find the Kindle edition (for free) with the original illustrations.

Any of you last minute shoppers who don’t know what to get those pesky relatives/friends, check out my Author’s Page.  There is still time for Amazon to deliver these books.  A Merry Christmas to you all or happy holidays.

 

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: Carol, cheap, Christmas, Dickens, free, gifts, holiday books, kindle, Krampus, writer, writing, Yule

Just in time for Christmas

Winston & Baum and the Disk of Night is now available in print. I’ve dropped signed copies off at Hiram Books in Hiram, Ga. with more to follow at the Bookworm in Powder Springs next week. If you don’t want to wait, you can order a copy directly from Amazon by clicking the cover below.

This is the third book in the Winston & Baum Steampunk Adventure series and would make a great addition to any library.  An added bonus is the short story Brackish & the Sleeping Maidens found at the back of this book.  Brackish Thumtum, the goblin assistant of Winston & Baum, stars in his very own adventure.  Thanks for checking in and hope you all have a merry and bright holiday season.  Keep checking back for more fun to come!

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: action, adventure, alternate history, autographed, book, folklore, independent, monsters, myth, release, signed, steam punk, steampunk, victorian, weird west, writer, writing

Out Today

Out today, the third Winston & Baum Steampunk Adventure: Winston & Baum and the Disk of Night.  It’s only available on the Kindle for now, but the paperback will soon be following.

Synopsis: Dan Winston & Lee Baum, the premier monster-exterminating duo of England, find themselves called to America. Billy Hoffster Johnson, a Texas cattle baron and former client of Dan’s, arrives with news that a group of skinwalkers, long dead, are once again menacing his ranch and have murdered famed monster hunter and Dan’s friend, Pecos Slim. The medicine man that revived these villains seems to be after more than their blood. When a strange black disk is uncovered, bringing with it unholy magic, Dan and Lee are all that stand between the evil man and the chaos surrounding the dark artifact. With their very souls on the line, can the exterminators of the strange and weird rise to the challenge?

Also included in this volume, Brackish Thumtum, everyone’s favorite goblin, stars in his own solo adventure: Brackish & the Sleeping Maidens.

To pick up your Kindle copy click on the cover below.

Thanks for reading and keep checking back for more updates on where I’ll be and what I’m up to.

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: action, adventure, alternate history, book, Brackish, chupacabras, ebook, goblin, Indians, kindle, medicine man, monster, new, new release, skinwalkers, steam punk, steampunk, weird, weird western, werewolves, western, Winston & Baum, writer, writing

Under the October Moon (3 of 3)

Part 1 can be found here.

Part 2 is located here.

The wailing owl Screams solitary to the mournful moon. – David Mallet

There was a steady scratching at the door. Talking on her phone, Lynn grabbed the handle and pushed it open, ready to hand out candy. Instead of the trick or treaters that she expected, a simple, black cat sat on the mat. “Hold on, Rhonda,” she said, switching her attention to the animal. “What are you doing out here?”

Timmy, the little boy that she was babysitting, stepped out of the kitchen to see the costumes of other children. He stepped forward when he saw the green eyes of the feline look at him. “Major!” Timmy exclaimed, scooping the cat up into his arms.

“I’ll have to call you back,” Lynn said, ending the call. “Who’s Major?”

“This is Major,” Timmy replied. “I thought he ran away, but apparently not. See, his tag even says he lives here.”

Lynn inspected the tag, not wanting to anger the parents by letting a strange cat into the house. Timmy had been telling the truth, their address was stamped clearly onto the thin metal. “Okay, kiddo,” she relented. “What do you want to do now?”

“I don’t know.” Timmy wanted to go trick-or-treating, but his illness prevented it this year. Lynn had been nice and let him help her greet the other kids that rang the doorbell, watch movies that his parents didn’t like, and even eat some of the candy from the bowl.

The babysitter considered their options, she knew that Timmy was sick and was sympathetic to the kid. “I know, why don’t we make faces to put up around your room.”

Timmy’s face brightened as he heartily agreed. “How?” He asked.

Opening the tote bag that she always carried when babysitting, Lynn pulled out a stack of construction paper. “You draw the faces and I’ll cut out the paper to glue in place.” She explained.

“Okay. Come on, Major.” Timmy ran just like any other boy his age, even though his body was slowly deteriorating.

The black cat glared at Lynn before following the child to the kitchen table. Glancing up, Lynn saw a group of kids walk past on the street outside. The bright beams of the full moon let her see the costumes clearly. She wished that Timmy had been able to go out with his friends, but his mother had made her worries clear and disobeying her would mean no tip for Lynn. Joining her young client at the table, the two started on the project, when the doorbell rang. Timmy was the first one to the door this time with Lynn close behind. When the door was opened, no one stood on the doorstep and there was no sign that anyone had been there.

Shrugging, Timmy pushed the door and turned back towards the kitchen. Lynn caught sight of a black-robed figure standing underneath the Magnolia tree in the front yard before the door closed. Grabbing the door open, Lynn stared out at the empty yard. “Halloween,” she mumbled.

Several more times someone rang the bell and ran away before Lynn decided that she would just turn off the porch light. “What about the trick or treaters?” Timmy asked, genuinely concerned.

“It’s nine, they should be done by now.” She replied. “Speaking of which, you had best get in bed, or I’ll be done.”

Timmy giggled at the face she had made as he hurried up the stairs. A few moments later, Lynn had tucked the boy in with a kiss on his forehead. Wish all the kids I sit for could be this easy, Lynn thought as something in the kitchen fell.

She glanced into the room but did not see anything on the floor. The young woman was positive that she had heard something. A closer inspection did not reveal any suspect item. The window above the sink was open, but nothing had been moved. Lynn thought that the window was already closed and shrugging, made sure it was shut and latched. “Must’ve been the pipes,” she mumbled as she started to turn around.

Something snagged in her hair and tossed the young woman into the living room. Hitting the back of the couch, Lynn flipped over and landed on the cushions. She stood up, expecting to see someone, but only an empty room greeted her. From the foot of the stairs, Lynn saw the green eyes of Major, staring at her. One of the end tables flipped over, tossing a lamp to the floor where it shattered. Lynn yelped in surprise. “Screw this,” she announced, running towards the stairs.

Her hands landed on the bannisters when her foot was pulled out from under her. The babysitter could feel herself being lifted as some unseen attacker pulled at her. It was all the teenager could do to hold onto the railing. Major sat staring at her.

Hissing, the cat launched himself at her face. Letting go of the bannister to deflect the angry cat, Lynn was thrown back towards the sofa with the cat digging its claws into her forearm. Falling before she reached the furniture, her head bounced off the wooden frame of the sofa.

“Lynn?” A familiar voice called.

“Timmy!” A frightened woman shouted.

The name brought Lynn around immediately. “In bed,” she managed to say as she saw his parents kneeling over her.

“What happened?” Timmy’s father asked as his mother rushed upstairs.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Things got a little weird after the cat came back.”

“Cat?”

“Major, he had his tag and everything,” Lynn replied.

Timmy’s father stood up. “Major’s been dead for months, we told Timmy he had run away. He’s buried in the backyard.”

A scream erupted from upstairs. Lynn saw Timmy’s dad take the stairs two at a time. Shakily with her head still throbbing and her forearm bleeding, the babysitter got to her feet and stumbled up the stairs. Timmy’s door was open and his parents were kneeling in the floor, his mother cradled in her husband’s arms. Lynn stepped through the door. Timmy’s bed was empty. The sheets had been carefully pulled back. Instead of the sleeping child, the only thing in the bed was the mouldy collar and tag of a dead cat; a cat that had returned, bringing something with it. As the parents wept and called the police, the October moon illuminated the world with its cold light.

I hope you’ve enjoyed these three shorts.  If so, please share them with friends and check out my books.  May you all have a safe and happy Halloween, hopefully, I’ve managed to put you in the proper spirit with these three tales of what goes on during the October Moon.

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: babysitter, bogle, boogeyman, cat, festival, ghost, Halloween, haunting, horror, monster, moon, October, October moon, story, writer, writing, zombie

Under the October Moon (2 of 3)

The first story can be found here: http://radioactiverabbitink.com/2015/...

I have seen the movement of the sinews of the sky, And the blood coursing in the veins of the moon. –  Muhammad Iqbal

The radio crackled to life in his hand. Bill almost dropped the CB handset. Nobody came over or said anything, which made it odd, but the long-haul truck driver was used to weird, especially this close to Stull, Kansas. He had been driving for years before he had ever needed to pass through the small town just to the north of Gatlin. The other drivers told strange stories about the small town, but Bill had long ago learned not to pay attention to the idle chatter of other truckers. They were worse than old women about spinning yarns. Waiting until the static quit, Bill pressed the button and sent out a general broadcast to see if there were any other truckers nearby. A few moments later, something came through, but it was too garbled to make out.

“Come back, good buddy,” Bill replied. “Couldn’t quite hear ya.”

No response ever came.

There had been plenty of trucks on Highway 40, but ever since he had turned onto 442, the roads had been empty. It was eerie. The moon was shining brightly over the rows of corn, giving the stalks the look of a silver sea lining the road. Bill preferred the silver sea to the standard crop of dead stalks that seemed to hold some sinister menace. A barn rose above the tops of the plants with a flickering red light reaching to the heavens.

Refusing to slow down, Bill kept his speed up and raced on along the country road. Once he reached the actual city of Stull, he’d hang a left on 1023 for the last leg of his trip. Headlights finally appeared in the distance. Bill slowed his speed just in case it was the local sheriff. The road continued to draw ever closer to the hellish-looking barn.

As Bill drew nearer, he could see several bonfires burning. A pumpkin-headed scarecrow held a sign, pointing the way to the local harvest fair. The closer he came the more signs dotted the shoulder of the road: corn maze, fresh apple cider, rides, games, and all of the other trappings of a community fair. Bill shook his head in disgust. He hated when these little towns decided to have some kind of event; it always meant that he would have to keep going to get something to eat. The man hated the drive through Stull, but he loved the diner in town. It had one of the best bowls of chili that he had ever had; coupled with the cute girl that worked the counter and Bill always stopped in Stull.

Maybe on the way back, he told himself. With a fair in town, the diner would probably be closed, and the cute girl would be fawned over by all of the farm boys. Refusing to glance over at the festivities, Bill kept going, leaving the happy townspeople of Stull in the fading glow of his taillights. Up ahead, the gates to the local cemetery raised up with the white church behind it; they were the only thing that broke the monotony of the farms.

Bill caught sight of several people in the necropolis. Kids telling ghost stories, Bill thought as he pulled the air horn.

Imagining the frightened kids jumping out of their skin, Bill laughed to himself. The cemetery behind him, he concentrated on the darkened road ahead of him. It was going to be a long night without his bowl of chili and a stiff cup of coffee. A loud wrenching sound broke from underneath the hood of the rig. The engine whined for a moment and then died. Letting out a string of profanity that would have embarrassed his father, a former sailor, Bill managed to guide the large vehicle to the shoulder before it quit moving.

The trucker knew that his cell phone would not have any signal this far out, but checked it anyway. The display screen confirmed his thoughts, no cell towers would be carrying his signal. The CB was his only chance. Sending several calls out, Bill waited. He was greeted by nothing but static. Tossing the handset onto the dash, he opened the door and stepped into the chilly night. The farm wasn’t too far back, several miles maybe. High up in the cab of his truck, Bill had been able to spy over the tops of the corn, but now, on the road the plants formed two perfect walls to keep him hemmed in.

As he started to close the door to the cab, the radio crackled for a moment followed by a strange whelp and then fell silent. “Sounded like a scream,” Bill muttered.

Ignoring the strange sound, the trucker started walking down the blacktop, thankful for the bright orb in the night sky. A breeze blew overhead carrying eerie noises with it. Bill thought it sounded like a mournful cry. Grumbling to himself for acting like a frightened child, he shoved his hands in his pocket and marched back the way he had driven.

The steeple bearing a white cross rose above the field, which meant Bill was getting near the cemetery. “Get those kids to give me some help.”

Shifting direction, the breeze blew open the gate to the cemetery. “Hey!” Bill shouted as he stepped through the gate.

The burly truck driver stopped short. He was not sure what was going on, but it wasn’t kids telling ghost stories. The soil of the cemetery had been dug up, leaving gaping holes where the dead had been buried. Something brushed against a nearby tombstone. Bill was not prepared for the thing that stumbled towards him. A half-rotted thing in a few mouldering scraps that had been a gown reached out a skeletal hand with only three fingers, the others having fallen away long ago.

Bill wanted to run as far as possible from this place, but his muscles refused to obey him, leaving the man standing in the path of this creature. Opening its mouth, the monster let out a mournful moan; the same sound Bill had heard. It was so close that Bill could smell the putrid stench of its breath. When a rotting hand fell on his shoulder, Bill’s paralysis was cured. Shrieking, he swatted the hand away and pushed the rotten woman from him. He saw more of the corpses trying to reach him. Screaming, the trucker ran back onto the highway. A single figure stood in the road, blocking his path to the farm.

Not wanting to touch another of the putrid things, Bill made tracks for his rig. “Zombies, they were zombies,” he whimpered as his feet slapped against the asphalt.

It was not long before a stitch developed in his side, and Bill stopped to work it out, checking to make sure that no shambling corpse was nearby. Doubling over, he wretched up the last meal he had eaten. A scraping sound came from behind him. Not wanting to look, but unable to stop himself, Bill checked. The corpses that he thought he had escaped were lumbering after him; their arms held out to embrace him, and their mournful sound reverberating in the night air. The moon overhead washed out a lot of their colors, which Bill was thankful for, but provided him with more detail than he would have ever wanted.

Unable to run any further, the trucker set off at a fast pace as he hurried back to the safety of his vehicle. The exhaust pipes raised up to the heavens like silver sentries. Giving another look, Bill saw that the monsters had gained on him, but not enough to overtake him. Tears of joy started to fall down his unshaven cheeks. The tears fell that much harder when Bill opened the door and pulled himself into the cab. Maybe, if they can’t see me they’ll go away, he thought as he laid down in the seat.

The wail outside the truck told him that they had not forgotten him. There was a steady scratching at the door…

Tune in Friday for the third tale.

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: cemetery, creepy, Halloween, horror, monster, moon, October, October moon, scary, spooky, Stull, undead, writer, writing, zombie

Under the October Moon (1 of 3)

With Halloween so close, I thought it would be a shame not to tell stories for the campfire.  With the full moon this week, I thought what better than to tell the tales witnessed by it as it shines upon the evils of the night.

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.  –  George Carlin

The October moon rose, full and bright, above the lofty heights of the fur trees and shone its cold light across the forested landscape. Mitch Higgins was sitting around the fire, admiring the Alaskan night. The most recent addition to the musher’s camped at the mountaintop in Dyea; Mitch was grateful that the rain, which had persisted for days, seemed to have finally blown over. A small wood cabin sat behind him with its rear wall nestled against the fence where his dogs were housed.

Most of the other mushers had taken their dogs and left, going to race or moving their animals to another training camp. Only Lauren had left her animals on the mountaintop. Usually, Mitch enjoyed the company of his fellow mushers, but Lauren was sick and resting in town that meant her dogs were left for Mitch to take care of. He had fed both sets of animals and was just enjoying the October moon. The bears had bedded down for their long winter nap, and the mountain, while lonesome at times, was also very peaceful.

When he was younger, Mitch would have never considered staying alone on a mountaintop, but with his dogs, he was not truly alone. The twenty-four animals that he raced with were his family now, and Ted was down at the bottom of the mountain at base camp, just a radio away. Occasional glimpses of the Northern Lights kept drawing his eyes skyward. One of the logs in the fire popped, drawing him away from the sights of nature around him, then he heard something else. A noise from further down the mountain. It was a strange sound like something moving through the woods, not the thrashing of a bear, but not the movement of a human either.

When the wind shifted, it carried an unfamiliar scent up the mountain. Across from him, Mitch could see Lauren’s dogs perk up and start sniffing about. A look over his shoulders revealed his dogs doing the same. A moment later, the animals were growling. Mitch looked around; the dogs were acting like a bear was near but that couldn’t be. Could it?

Running from his chair to the small cabin that held enough room for only a bed, Mitch grabbed the yellow spray can by the door. If it was a bear, Mitch was ready. The bear spray would keep the animal away, and if not, he still had the pistol on his hip. It was late October, and Mitch’s mind drifted back to the old ghost stories that the other mushers had told him. The Dyea Slide Cemetery wasn’t far away. In April, 1898, an unknown number of people were buried, lost forever, by a landslide. The others had told him about spirits roaming through the woods, searching for their lost bodies.

“Keep it together, Mitch,” he whispered to himself.

Keeping a watch on the dogs, Mitch noticed they were all focused on the same area. Something was at the far end of the kennels, and the dogs were not happy about it. The young musher lit his lantern, pulled the pin from the bear spray, and stepped out to meet whatever had the dogs on edge. The light from the lantern provided a good halo of illumination, and the bear spray offered a range of thirty feet; these things allowed Mitch to feel somewhat secure.

The gravel road up the mountain into the woodland provided a barrier between the camp and the forest, only an exceptionally large fur tree stood close to the camp. Mitch crept closer towards the tree, when he heard a deep growl raising from behind it, louder than the ones offered by the sled dogs. It was a sound that Mitch had never heard a bear make before. Careful to keep his distance, the young man tried to give a wide berth to the tree so that he could see what lurked behind the evergreen. Claws raked down the bark, digging deep furrows into the flesh of the tree and disappeared as the light hit them. Mitch had not gotten a good look, but he got the impression that the fur was gray and the paw did not look like a bear’s.

The paw reappeared and dug into the tree. Mitch could see five fingers that looked very human like, then a fur-covered face with a long snout, sharp teeth, and amber eyes lunged forward. Screaming, Mitch pressed down the lever and shot a concentrated stream of pepper and irritant at the beast. The young musher ran backwards, holding down the lever, as he tried to reach the pen. Both sets of dogs were going crazy. When his back touched the fence, Mitch dropped the bear spray and opened the gate. Huddling with his dogs, the man listened as whatever he had seen tore down the mountain away from him; angry snarls rising up in the night air.

Ted, Mitch thought as the realization that the man would be unprepared for that monster. There was no way the musher was willing to step outside of the pen where his animals had formed a protective circle around him. No longer growling, the animals stared in the direction where the thing was running away. He did not want to admit it, but the face he had seen looked like the werewolves from the movies he watched as a kid. Pushing those thoughts aside, Mitch wracked his brain to think of how to contact Ted without leaving the safety of his dogs. The realization that his cabin had a window against the dog pen dawned on him and he had a plan. Forcing up the window, Mitch leaned in and grabbed the handset. The radio crackled to life in his hand…

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: Alaska, campfire story, creepy, ghost story, Halloween, monster, moon, October, spooky, stories, story, werewolf, writer, writing