This week, several bloggers will be revealing the cover for my newest print/ebook, The Nightmare Collection. This collection contains the short story Nightmare at the Freak Show, the novelette Once Upon a December Nightmare, and the novella The Nightmare Collection.
My own reveal here will be on Wednesday, but I would like to thank all the bloggers who will be posting the cover on their blogs during this week.
Showing posts with label horror. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horror. Show all posts
Monday, November 12, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Friday Excerpt: Nightmare Ever After
Today I have more from Nightmare Ever After. This is chapter two. Nightmare Ever After will be coming out next week, so mark your calendars! Also, today's my mom's birthday! Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!
If you missed Chapter One, you can read it here.
(By the way, if you haven't read Once Upon a December Nightmare and don't like spoilers, then you might want to hold off on reading this.)
CHAPTER TWO
Cassie Richards tapped the pencil’s
eraser against the desk as the seconds ticked down to the end of the school
year. Her U.S. History students rustled their test pages and filled in the tiny
bubbles on the scantron. One by one, they finished and placed their tests upon
her desk. She could’ve started hand-grading them, but why bother? The scantron machine
would grade the tests in mere minutes, and she would be one step closer to her
glorious summer alone.
Tap, tap.
Tick, tock.
Tap, tap.
Tick—
The bell rang. Freedom!
“Have a good summer, kids!” Chairs scooted back with
metallic screeches. The excited murmur increased to a loud buzz as the students
filtered into the halls. Lockers opened and slammed shut in the distance.
Cassie stood to collect her purse and the tests when she saw
a man slip inside the door. “Can I help you?”
He stood tall and erect, towering over six feet in height.
His dark hair had just a sprinkle of premature gray at his sideburns. He was
probably a few years older than she. Maybe thirty-five or thirty-six. She
thought he was handsome. Was he someone’s father? She couldn’t stop her smile
until his clear blue eyes met her gaze.
Sharp, focused. A cop’s eyes. Her smile faltered.
She struggled to swallow the lump in her throat and coughed
instead. Her hand tightened around her purse, and her heart dropped to her
stomach. Although she had suspected this day would come, she’d hoped it never
would.
“Are you Cassandra Richards?” His hand went to his suit
jacket, and he produced a badge. “I’m—”
“What department are you with? Roanoke Police? Virginia
State?” Her purse dropped onto the desk and scattered pencils and paperclips.
“FBI, actually. I’m Special Agent Timothy O’Conner.” He
offered his badge for her to see.
She leaned forward, and her hand shook too much to take his
badge. Why did his presence affect her so much? She breathed in to calm her
jumbled nerves and read the badge. He was legit. “It’s happened again, hasn’t
it?”
“What has happened again?” He placed his credentials back
into his jacket and leaned against a student’s desk.
Blood rushed through her veins and created a dull roar. She
was surprised he made no indication of hearing her rapid heartbeat. Her muscles
tightened, begging her to run, to flee. She sank to the chair and started
gathering the scattered school supplies, anything to keep her hands busy.
“I didn’t do it, you know. I-I haven’t even been back to
Virginia since . . . it happened.” She lowered her gaze.
“I know.” His voice was soft, low, a gentle caress that lured
her to look at him. “Do you mind if I show you something, Cassandra?”
“It’s Cassie.” She couldn’t help but correct him. Cassandra
seemed so unfortunate of a name. One she identified too well with that mocked
Trojan prophetess, who warned the Trojans about the Greeks and their gifts to
no avail. She should listen to her own warnings to flee, but she was tired of
running from her horrific past.
“You can call me Tim.” He smiled and pulled out his smart
phone. “May I? It’s a bit graphic in nature, but I believe you might further
confirm something for me.”
No, no, no! Her
thoughts spun in circles.
“I suppose,” she said instead. The sooner she did as he
wanted, then the sooner he would leave.
He came around the desk and placed his phone before her. His
hovering body heat warmed her back, and her cheeks burned. She should’ve
shifted away, but she needed that flash of warmth to prepare her for what was
in front of her. What she saw chilled her to the bone.
A mutilated corpse rested on a bed of dead leaves. A couple
bright white flowers bloomed beside it. She leaned closer and enlarged the
picture until she could see the person’s throat. Her hair shifted in front of
her eyes, and she tucked it behind her ears. The jagged marks told her more
than enough. She bolted from the chair, slamming right into him. He let out a
soft “oomph” and grasped her arm before she could run for it.
“Why are you showing me this?” She jerked away and back up
until she hit the whiteboard.
He stepped toward her and placed his arm against the board
to block her escape.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want your help.” His jaw clenched, the muscles bunching
before he relaxed. His thumb shifted and brushed against her arm. It tickled a
bit and yet felt reassuring to her.
“My help?”
“Yes.” Tim scooped up the phone and motioned to the picture.
“Did the man who killed your friends do this?”
“It wasn’t a man, but a monster.” She saw the disbelieving
look on his face. No one found her story credible. Most days, she didn’t
either. “It’s similar. Okay? Happy?”
He nodded and tucked the phone into his pocket. “I want you
to come with me to Virginia.”
“No.” She crossed her arms. Her body shook, but it had
nothing to do with fear anymore. New Haven had declared her a murderer. They
treated her worse than cow shit after James, Denise, and Mary’s bodies were
discovered. Even when her name was cleared, death threats, slashed tires, and
broken windows didn’t stop until she moved back to Missouri.
“You’re the lone survivor, the only one who has seen this
killer and lived. Cassie, he’s never been caught and he’s killing again.” He touched
her chin, tilting her head to look into his eyes. “Don’t you want your friends’
murderer brought to justice?”
“I want him dead,” she said without remorse. She would do
almost anything to catch her friends’ killer, but the monster was still out
there. What if it still searched for her? “But I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
His touch stirred a heat she hadn’t felt in a few years, but
she couldn’t do as he asked. Going back just wasn’t an option for her. She
skirted around him and snatched her belongings. Tests needed to be graded, so
she could enter in final grades. She still had over a week left of work before
her summer break would start, and she wasn’t going to let something that didn’t
concern her ruin her plans.
“Does your principal know you were in mental institution for
a while?” He rested against the whiteboard, hands in his pockets.
She straightened. Because the charges were dropped, her
record at Grayson Sanatorium was expunged, or so she thought. She never told
anyone.
“I didn’t think so. You know, if they find out—”
“That’s not fair.” She whipped around and glared at him.
“You’d get me fired from my job. Then what will I do?”
He shrugged. “Come back home. Give us your opinion on this
killer, and then you can return to your life here. Since school’s out, I’m sure
you can arrange to leave early.”
Her fingers tightened into fists, the nails digging into her
flesh. She’d worked so hard to get where she was. That damn monster threatened
to destroy everything again. She could still feel its hairy hands around her
throat. But she couldn’t go with this agent back to Virginia. Tim O’Conner
seemed like a reasonable man. She couldn’t see him really forcing her to go
against her will. “I can’t.”
“Miss Richards,” he said, all formal again, “I can insist
you’ll go.”
“I said no.” She clutched the purse strap and the stack of
scantrons against her chest. They were real. Her life here was what mattered,
not the one she left behind almost ten years ago.
“I heard one of the girls who died that December night was
your best friend. Which one was it?” His breath brushed against her hair.
“M-Mary, Mary Hart.” Cassie closed her eyes. As if it
happened yesterday, winter’s chill nipped at her face. Mary had lost her sandal
as they fled the monster. Cassie let loose a small squeak at her memory of her best
friend’s whimpers as the creature killed her. She bit her knuckles to keep her
emotions in check.
“You know her killer and can help us stop him. Mary needs
you.” He produced a piece of paper—an airplane ticket. “Are you coming?”
She looked at the ticket, which would take her to Atlanta
and then Roanoke. “You’re a cruel man.”
“I’m a man who gets the job done.” He waved the ticket, his
arm brushing against hers. “Do it for Mary.”
Friday, October 19, 2012
Friday Excerpt: Nightmare Ever After and Guest Post over at Livia's
First, I'm talking about why writers should consider writing flash fiction over at Livia's blog, Leave it to Livia, so please be sure to stop by.
Today's Friday Excerpt comes from Chapter One of Nightmare Ever After. I apologize it's a little on the long side, but it's worth the read. Nightmare Ever After is the sequel to Once Upon a December Nightmare and will be available on October 31st.
(By the way, if you haven't read Once Upon a December Nightmare and don't like spoilers, then you might want to hold off on reading this.)
CHAPTER ONE
FBI Special Agent Tim O’Conner’s
nostrils burned from the pungent reek of death. His fingers twitched to cover
his nose, but he wouldn’t dream of looking disturbed by a corpse, especially in
front of the local yokels. Off to his right, a green-faced deputy leaned
against his truck and barfed into a plastic grocery bag. Tim swallowed hard and
breathed shallowly through his mouth.
Sunlight dappled the forest floor and deepened the shadows
around the golden pattern. The rustling leaves sounded like raindrops
splattering upon a roof. Each footfall sent gravel flying on the forestry road.
The odor grew stronger. Tim ran his tongue against his teeth, as if he could
rid the rotting death coating it.
Sheriff Jones knelt at the edge of the road. His crisp brown
slacks had mud upon the cuffs, but his sheriff’s star gleamed. He held open a
manila folder and shuffled through papers.
Tim cleared his throat. He flashed his badge before tucking
it into his pants’ pocket. Due to the late May heat, he left his suit jacket in
his SUV not far from the deputy’s truck. “You requested a FBI agent? I’m
Special Agent O’Conner.”
“Pleased to meet you,
O’Conner.” Jones stood, stepped back from the corpse, and offered his hand. The
two men shook hands firmly.
Past the sheriff, he could see the edge of a hiking boot. It
dangled from a partially gnawed leg. The other shoe was missing from the body’s
bare foot. Since no vehicle had been discovered, he assumed the person was a
hiker. Tim saw no backpack, so perhaps the person either had lost it or was
only out for a couple hours. From his position, he didn’t detect any maggots,
but the smell indicated death had to have been at least a few days or more ago.
The medical examiner would tell them more.
“Who discovered the body?”
“Forestry service. They radioed us.” The sheriff took off
his hat and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “They asked if they could
give a statement after their rounds. Hope that’s all right with you.”
“I suppose it’ll have to be, won’t it?” His jaw bunched at
the lack of protocol, and he continued to peruse the corpse. The mangled flesh suggested
quite a few animals had feasted on this poor departed soul. The flies’ humming
sent a shiver down Tim’s spine. From the long hair and torn tank top, Tim
guessed the hiker was likely female, but even then it was hard to tell.
A few days ago, the news had mentioned a missing hiker. He
hadn’t remembered her name, but could this be the same person?
“Any ID?”
“We’ve been waiting on Patti Smith, the medical examiner
down from Roanoke. She should be here shortly.” The sheriff glanced over to the
deputy as he puked again. “Mikey, just drive down to the east entrance and look
out for Patti. She might get lost up here.”
Tim knew Patti since he’d been assigned to the area three
years ago. She was a damn fine medical examiner.
The deputy nodded and fled to his truck.
“Newbie?” Tim motioned to the deputy.
“Nah, Mikey’s a good guy but has a weak stomach.” Jones
shrugged.
“Did you alert the State Police?” The FBI had jurisdiction
in the Jefferson National Forest, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the State
Police would be involved too. The Bureau was trying to get along better with
the local and state police. They did know the land better, even if Tim
sometimes thought they got in the way too much.
He tiptoed closer to the body, so he wouldn’t disturb the
scene. Something shifted along the body’s upper torso. He squinted as he leaned
closer.
“I did. Called them right after you.” He motioned to the
body. “What do you think?”
“Something’s moving.” Tim scratched his chin. The odor
shoved him back, but he kept moving near the corpse.
“Probably bugs.”
Tim removed a pen from his shirt’s pocket and lightly lifted
up the neck of the tank top. Worm-like shapes writhed under the body. Then, a
fat maggot popped out from the jagged tear along the victim’s throat.
Caw-caw! A crow
flew from a tree branch, and Tim jerked upright. His heart thudded in his
chest. He had to almost laugh at himself. Maggots were normal. So were birds in
the woods. He was almost as bad as the barfing deputy.
“Agent O’Conner?” Sheriff Jones gave him a smug, slightly
amused smile.
Great, the sheriff noticed his reaction as well. Tim slipped
his pen back in his pocket and took a few steps away from the body. His gaze
traveled up the slight incline. No signs of a struggle. The leaves and dirt
appeared undisturbed, so he didn’t think she had fallen. A few animal markings
dotted the area.
“It’s possible the hiker could’ve died here. Heart attack,
heat stroke, something of that nature. There’s no drag marks.” He circled the
body. “Not much blood. Dead before the animals got her, I suppose. The ME will
tell us more.”
“So you think this is an accident?” The sheriff clutched his
folders closer to his chest.
“Do you think it isn’t?” Tim’s eyebrow arched as he studied
the older man.
“Let me show you something.” He offered the FBI agent the
first folder. “About nine years ago on June 6, 2003, seventeen-year-old John Faraday
and sixteen-year-old Cara Ryder went missing. We discovered his 2003 Ford F-150
along this very road. On June 8th, we finally stumbled across their bodies
within a clearing. Beside them, we found deer remains. These kids were
murdered, and that’s not all.”
While the sheriff spoke, Tim flipped through the pages. The
last picture he came across was the bodies. The ragged neck wounds were eerily
similar to the hiker before him. “They weren’t the only ones?”
“Nope.” Sheriff Jones handed him the second folder. “James Canley,
Denise Hart, and Mary Hart were discovered in that same clearing on December 29,
2002. According to the parents, they were supposed to have gone to a movie on
the 28th, so no one knew why they were found along this road. We suspected
murder and had a person of interest, but the investigation took a different
turn when Faraday and Ryder were killed six months later.”
Tim flipped through the next set of pictures. An old black
truck sat upon the road. Drag marks and blood smeared across snow. There were
three bodies. A gaping hole replaced the one girl’s throat. The other two had
fared no better. The frigid December temperatures slowed the decay rate, so the
corpses were fresher than the one in front of him.
“Who was your person of interest?”
“One Cassandra Richards. She’s the last photo in the file. A
car hit her along the main road, and the paramedics took her to Roanoke
Memorial Hospital. She had trace evidence from her friends, but her mental
state kept her from trial.” The sheriff sighed. “We were certain she did it.”
The agent came to the last photograph. A wide-eyed young
woman stared back at him, her eyes as haunted as if she’d lived through a
nightmare and had never woken up. “What happened to her? Is she living in the
area?”
“After we had realized she wasn’t our killer, she was
released from Grayson Mental Sanatorium. She’s not here, though.” Jones cleared
his throat. “Let’s just say many folks didn’t welcome her back. Last I heard
she taught high school history in Springfield, Missouri.”
“And she was your only suspect?” Tim touched the picture. His
heart clenched for the pretty girl. In the distance, a truck engine roared
closer. The deputy was probably heading back with the medical examiner. Either
that, or Virginia’s State Police had arrived.
“Yes. We had some strange trace DNA and hair on the victims,
but it was nothing conclusive.” His chuckle lacked humor. “Young Cassie there
told us a hairy monster killed her friends. Can you believe that?”
Normally, Tim would’ve said no, but seeing those eyes, his gut told him to trust her. “And I guess you think the killer’s back. Is that why you
brought these folders to a crime scene?”
“You guessed right, Agent O’Conner. The one man from the
forestry service recognized the wounds, told me it might be the same killer. We rarely have crime out here, O'Conner. I
brought these reports to check it out. You still think it’s an accident?”
After seeing these pictures, Tim wasn’t so quick to label it
one way or the other. “We’ll see what Patti says. I suggest we start a
perimeter search. If the hiker was murdered, then this isn’t the primary scene.
There’s not enough blood or disturbance. If it's not an accident, could this be the work of a copycat?”
“I really don't think it's a copycat. But I agree this isn't the primary scene. My office is willing to help. I know this is the
FBI’s call. We have little jurisdiction here.” The sheriff gathered the
folders.
“We’ll be glad for the assistance. There’re a lot of woods
out here. I’ll call in some backup and see if the Western Lab can speed up
their lab work on what we discover.” Tim’s partner Jess Lawson had picked a
fine time to go on maternity leave. He could’ve used her help. He removed his
cell phone from his pocket and searched for a signal.
Nothing.
“Oh, those phones don’t work out here. You can borrow our
radio. Mikey’s back with the ME.” Sheriff Jones nodded to the deputy’s truck,
followed behind by the medical examiner’s vehicle and the State Police in their
cruiser.
“Thanks, Sheriff.” Tim nodded.
Jones returned the gesture.
Tim glanced at the corpse again before heading to Patti’s
vehicle. Even along the forestry road, the sun barely poked through from the
dense tree canopy. Such a picturesque place for a terrible crime. If the
sheriff was right this man had killed again, then Tim would find the murderer. He
knew he would need to speak with the medical examiner as well as the State
Police before he could call in a couple more teams, but he needed to talk to
one other person.
Cassandra Richards was the lone survivor. How
could they believe she had anything to do with killing her friends? Plus, if
this person was murdered and the evidence pointed to the same man who killed
those teens back in 2002 and 2003, then she could give them insight on the
case. Persuading her to return, though, might be a problem, but Special Agent Tim
O’Conner was up to the task.
Don't forget to visit Livia and my guest post about flash fiction here.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Friday Excerpt: Once Upon a December Nightmare
It's time for another Friday Excerpt. This one is from Once Upon a December Nightmare and includes James's POV.
You can read the beginning in last week's post here.
2. James
The truck hopped once again along
the rutted road. James considered how the deer’s throats had been slashed, too
ragged to be from a knife. What had killed them? But he didn't know. He pushed aside his thoughts.
It was strange, but nothing they could do about it. He shrugged off the horror
of that clearing. A grin plastered itself to his face as he fiddled with the
radio knob until it picked up a country station. Hank Williams, Sr.’s “There’s
a Tear in my Beer” blared through the static of the speakers.
“Do we have to listen to that?” Cassie cringed and threw her
hands over her ears.
“You live in the country, Cassie. You should learn to like country music.” James chortled before
singing along. Denise’s voice joined his. How could someone live in the country
and not like Hank Williams, Sr.? He turned up the radio dial even louder to
further annoy Cassie who had pulled up the hood of her coat and smashed her
hands against it and her ears to block out his caterwauling.
The headlights flickered.
He paused mid-note. The truck was twenty-five years old and
not in the best of shape, but he didn’t think much about it until they
wavered again.
“Is something wrong?” Denise turned the radio down.
“Nah, we’re all right.” He gave her a comforting smile, not
wanting to worry his girlfriend. “Oh, by the way, when we get back, I’ll be
heading home tonight. I have to work early in the morning.”
“On a Sunday?”
“They called me in this afternoon.” He smoothly lied.
“On a Sunday?”
“They called me in this afternoon.” He smoothly lied.
“Okay, sure, but why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Denise glanced
over to her sister and friend before looking back at him. “I thought you were
going to stay the night again.”
“You wanted me to come along, didn’t you? But I have to
work. It’s closer for me to stay at my place since we’ll be getting back late.”
James huffed.
Denise had begged him to come along. She wanted to show him
off to her old friend, the always single Cassie. He would have liked to stay
with his own “old friend” April for the night instead, and thankfully Denise didn’t have a
clue about April. When his old girlfriend had returned to town a few weeks ago,
he was thrilled to see her. They picked right back up with their relationship
that began in high school. He liked Denise a lot, but he enjoyed April too. It
wasn’t the first time he juggled two girls.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Denise crossed her arms and stared
straight ahead.
The truck continued along the twists and turns of the bumpy,
hilly road. Hank William Sr.’s voice faded away and changed into the upbeat
Dolly Parton singing “9 to 5.” Yet, they had all fallen into a state of uneasy
silence. James glanced over at the three women beside him. It was unusual to
hear them quiet. Women rarely stop gabbing when in a group. He chuckled to
himself, but the laughter drifted away.
The headlights went out completely. He slammed on the brakes.
The truck skidded to a stop and threw them forward.
“What happened?” Cassie asked.
“Why did the lights go out?” Mary added, a touch of fear
entering her voice.
“It’s nothing,” James said in his best comforting I’m-the-man–and-I’ll–fix-it
tone. “Let me check under the hood. Probably a wire jarred loose.”
He turned off the engine and popped the hood. After climbing
out of the vehicle, he lifted the hood and propped it up. He squinted at the
shadowy engine. It was too dark to see anything beyond dark blobs, so he
returned to the truck.
“Help me find a flashlight. I can’t see squat out there.” He
reached behind the seat and grabbed the rusty red toolbox. A hammer, various
wrenches, a screwdriver, but no flashlight. They’d be screwed if he couldn’t
get the truck started. While he searched for the flashlight, Denise scrounged
around in the glove compartment. The overhead light illuminated them all, and
he rolled his eyes when he saw Mary and Cassie just sitting there.
“Check under the seat, Cassie,” James said, putting the toolbox back.
“Check under the seat, Cassie,” James said, putting the toolbox back.
Cassie leaned forward. Her dark hair hung in front of her
eyes while she searched for the flashlight. “I don’t feel anything there.”
“Get out and check.” James huffed, trying to figure out
where the flashlight was. The truck door opened, and Cassie checked under her
side of the seat. When was the last time he saw the light? “You didn’t take the
flashlight out, did you, Denise?”
“Well, I told you I used it the other day when the lights
were out,” Denise said. “Didn’t you put it back?”
James tried to keep calm, but his patience was wearing thin.
“I told you that the flashlight needed more batteries. I thought you had gotten
them and put the flashlight back. Did you go to the store and get them?”
“No, I haven’t had a chance yet. I’m not the only one who
can do things.” Denise glared at him.
“I know that. I’m not the one sitting on my—” James held his
tongue before “fat ass” came out of his mouth. He didn’t want to air dirty
laundry and have this argument in front of her little sister, Mary, and her
sister’s friend. At times, he was half-tempted to break up with Denise,
especially since April was back, but he wasn’t about to screw up the holidays. “Hand
me your lighter. I’ll see if I can figure out what is wrong.”
Denise threw it at him, but he caught it. He took it with
him and purposely left the door open.
Let them freeze.
He flicked the lighter on and used the tiny flame to search underneath the hood. Although he considered himself handy around a vehicle, he could barely tell the battery from the radiator in this light, or lack thereof. He couldn’t see if anything was loose.
Let them freeze.
He flicked the lighter on and used the tiny flame to search underneath the hood. Although he considered himself handy around a vehicle, he could barely tell the battery from the radiator in this light, or lack thereof. He couldn’t see if anything was loose.
“Damn it.” He slammed the hood down and went back into the
truck. “I don’t have enough light. Let me try starting the engine again.”
He turned the key in the ignition. After three tries, the
engine turned over, but they still had no headlights. Without lights, it would
be too dangerous to continue down the winding mountain road. There were no
guard rails, and some parts dropped off in a steep cliff. He turned the engine
off. “Let’s see if we can call someone. We can’t go anywhere in the dark.”
All of them, except for Cassie who didn’t have one, pulled
out their cell phones and searched for some bars.
“Any signal?” A hint of panic flashed through Cassie’s
eyes—could she possibly be scared?—but she sounded calm.
Denise shook her head, snapping her phone shut. “No luck
here.”
James opened the door again and stood, pointing his cell
phone toward the star-speckled sky. “I have a bar. Let me try calling.”
He dialed Denise’s mom’s number, but it didn’t even give
half a ring.
“We need more than one bar to call out.” He sank back down
on the leather seat.
“Let me see with my phone.” Mary motioned for Cassie to get
out. James went around to the other side to help Mary climb into the back of
the truck and get onto the roof. He watched as she held her cell phone up as
high as her five-foot frame would go. If only it would work, he could go to his
warm bed with April in it.
“I have two bars!” She dialed the number.
James could hear the ring from where he stood and bounced on
his feet. Come on, pick up!
Then she lost the signal, tried again, but had no luck. “Sorry,
guys,” she said, and James helped her down and back into the truck.
They weren’t likely to get a signal by standing here, so he
turned toward the blonde, brunette, and the redhead. “I’m gonna go and find
help. We can’t be too far from the main road. Perhaps three, four miles. I can
probably get a cell signal then.”
It shouldn’t take him more than an hour or two. He’d call Denise’s mom, she could drive and pick him up, and then they could go back and get the girls. It would all work out fine.
Yes, in real life the truck's lights went out and none of the cell phones worked. Very ripe for a horror movie, right? If you enjoyed the excerpts, then please consider purchasing a copy. It's only $0.99.
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