Strangels

I was sitting at a table, enjoying the slight chill in the air as I held my cup beneath my nose. The steam warmed the tip and the aroma of vanilla and honey made my mouth water. For the first morning of my retirement, I thought things were going well.

The first of them walked across the street and stopped a few cars down. She was beautiful in a way that I couldn’t have described the day before. All long, lean limbs and cute, captivating curves. I might not enjoy being alone, but it did make it easier to stare. Although as I looked at her clothing, an almost see through green sack of a dress with a pair of heavy, brown work boots and one spotted sock, I realized that everyone was staring at the woman.

When he friend appeared beside her, the woman at the next table gasped. I never asked if the gasp was due to him just appearing, and I was surprised that I hadn’t noticed him walking up, or if it was because the loose running shorts he was wearing left a portion of his anatomy hanging out down the leg. Honestly, I didn’t need to know. The man was so well built and gifted that I would have considered switching teams if he had asked.

I was lost in thought as a pair of children ran down the sidewalk. The little girl who was running from her brother came to a sudden stop when she saw the adonis standing in front of her. Her brother was distracted by the woman and did not stop. He plowed into his sister, knocking them both to the pavement in a tangle of skinned knees and bloody elbows.

As children often do, they began to scream and cry in response to their injuries. The whole of the little cafe’s patronage pulled their eyes from the visions of beauty to look upon the injured. The pair stepped toward the children, who ignored the beauties to focus upon their pains.

It might come as some surprise, but this is when things got weird.

The woman, her gown falling off of her to reveal far more than has ever been accepted as modest, knelt beside the girl and grabbed her face. She kissed the child full on the mouth before wetting her fingers in her mouth and then shoving one in each of the child’s ears. While giving the girl a double wet willy, the woman bent further forward and licked the blood from each of the child’s knees with a tongue that would have made an anteater proud.

The man, lowered his pants a bit around his bottom before squatting over the pursuing brother and lifting a single finger into the air. As he did, the sound of the gas he passed seemed to echo off the building behind me. I was aware of a car alarm going off, though at that moment I could not remember if it had been honking it’s warning before the fellow farted or not.

Both children were silent. The diners were silent. The passing pedestrians were silent. Even the cars were stopped at a red light. The only sound was that stupid car alarm.

The pair stood straight, and the sun reflecting off the windows illuminated them. For a moment, they were haloed in soft gold, then they each started walking in opposite directions. The children’s mother ran up to check on them and I looked back at the woman at the next table.

We made eye contact and I began to worry about her. She was pale, her lips a light blue, and I wondered if she would be able to keep her seat. Her eyes were wide and wild as she gulped like an old cartoon character. “The kids,” she whispered. “They were hurt from falling.”

I looked at them, and saw what the woman meant. No scrapes and no cuts. The boy looked nauseous and the little girl was wiggling her finger in her ear as if trying to dry it after swimming, but neither was bleeding anymore.

“It’s a miracle,” the woman said. Her words drew my attention back and I saw that she was clutching the cross hanging from her neck. “That was a miracle. They must have been angels.”

“Strange angels,’ I said, slurring the words together into a single unrecognizable one as I tried to make my brain and mouth work together after the spectacle. I licked my lips and cleared my throat before trying again. “Strange angels indeed.”

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Writing news

There are so many things I want to do and so many things I want to learn. There isn’t enough time in the day to do it all. I have cut back on television and I have almost stopped playing video games.

Still, there aren’t enough hours in the day.

If any of you have any suggestions, I am all ears.

I have a few positive news notes. I will be having a story appear as a guest blog post soon. I will put up a link when it goes live.

I am talking to a podcast about joining them for an episode. I have never done that so I am looking forward to it. Links to that in the future as well. Once I am sure it is recorded, I will start adding links to their site.

Finally, and for me, the most exciting item, I am proofing the final copy of my first book from a publisher. This isn’t an anthology that I am a part of. This is just mine. <happy dance here>

Almost two years ago, I misread a closed submission call for erotic horror and wrote a ghost story. I shopped it around a little, and found a publisher. It sat on the schedule for a year before we started editing, but now, editing is almost done.

I can’t wait to share the details with everyone. The book will be coming from Sirens Call Publications, but since we haven’t settled on the title yet, I can’t say too much more. Very soon though, you won’t be able to get me to shut up about it.

Talk to you later.

L. E. White

Rain

It really was a dark and stormy night. Jeff sat in front of the window, watching the water appear out of the darkness. He had turned on the porch light so that he could see the fat drops as they hurtled towards his father’s old red truck.

The rain was coming from the West, so it wasn’t hitting Jeff’s bedroom window with its East facing dormer. He could have opened it and sat on the sill. He loved the smell of the air when a storm was really pounding down, but he didn’t want to chill from the drop in temperature. It was early spring, sitting with the window open was a summer treat.

When a drop hit the window, he jumped. Just to the left of his face, he traced the streak to where the little drop was still making its way down the pane.

He looked back up when others started smacking into the glass. There weren’t very many, but they were picking up pace.

It didn’t make any sense. He could still see the rain falling through the light. It was still coming from the west.

Until a swirling gust threw them from the south.

Then, another swirl took the rain just above the truck and threw it towards the house. Jeff could see the water falling, only to jump sideways just before it bounced off the hood.

He shivered, like the time he walked under that melting icicle and it dripped down his collar. Rain wasn’t supposed to change direction.

He heard something growl. It was a big, rumbling sound that came from the distance. His eyes widened and his face went pale. He sat still, like a rabbit that was hoping the dog hadn’t seen it, until another handful of drops slapped the glass in front of his face.

Jeff ran out of his room, screaming one word over and over again.

“Tornado!”

Clarissa Johal: Guest Author: #Horror #Flashfiction with L. E. White

I got the chance to do a guest post for author Clarissa Johal. As usual, there is a new flash fiction piece with it. Please go and check out Interruptions. Clarissa also has a new novel out, so make sure and congratulate her.

Clarissa Johal: Guest Author: #Horror #Flashfiction with L. E. White.

Coffin Hop #4

Welcome back. With the beginning of a new week, I think we should go back over the important historical points of the recent past.

1. You are currently in the middle of the 2014 Coffin Hop. This is a blog tour dedicated to horror fiction. It started on the 24th and will end on Halloween.

2. Every blog in the tour is hosting some sort of giveaway. To enter mine, just leave me a comment on a part of the story. You will receive one entry per post for each comment. The winner will receive an e-book copy of my first novel, Double Occupancy.

3. This is a fantastic blog tour with a lot of talented people. Go enjoy yourself as they all share their own tales for the Halloween season.

4. Happy Samhain

I also want to say thank you to all the hoppers that are visiting. I love seeing everyone and hope you will come back throughout the coming year.

L. E. White

Feeding

Megan sat in the bathroom with her back against the wall. She had started out sitting on the toilet, but it wasn’t comfortable enough to keep doing it all night. She was twirling her hair with two fingers, tying a knot in the long, blonde strands that she would cuss herself for the next time she brushed it.

The bathroom itself was huge. Two sinks, a big garden tub and a separate shower. She wished she had one like this.

Megan looked over at the toilet. “Why did I have to get this room,” she said. “Every time I look at that I feel like I have to go.”

She puckered her lips, pouting for no good reason, until she heard it. There was a soft popping sound from bubbles working their way up the drain. She remembered her grandmother’s sink doing that whenever they did the dishes.

She looked at the tub and whispered, “Maybe somebody flushed the downstairs toilet.”

That didn’t make any sense. The house looked like it had been abandoned for years. There shouldn’t have been any water in the pipes.

Megan was looking at the toilet when she heard the metal rub along metal. She turned to look the other direction, and watched the shower curtain slide along its bar.

“Oh fuck.” Megan whispered the words until the curtain had reached the opposite wall. She held her flash light in her hands, the beam off since she could see from the moonlight. Her hand slid up the shaft, putting her finger on the button, ready to turn it on, when a soft light began to glow on the other side of the curtain.

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” her litany sped up as the light grew brighter. Megan could see a ball of green coming up from the floor, rising slowly, like an old helium balloon. She scooted along the floor, away from the shower until her shoulders touched the toilet bowl.

The edge of the curtain shifted, and it began to slide open. Megan’s teeth began to chatter and she rolled around the front of the toilet. She put the porcelain between her and the light, watching over the top of the lid as the shower opened.

When it was about half way across the bar, the curtain jerked and ripped the rest of the way open. The old plastic material tore free of the rings that held it in place and Megan screamed.

At nothing.

The moment the curtain ripped, the light winked out and the room as dark again. Megan’s scream continued for a moment before she peeked through one eye at the empty room.

“What the hell,” she said as she looked around.

A few minutes later, Megan stood up, turned on the flashlight, and walked over to check the curtain. It was torn from all the rings that held it to the rod, but she couldn’t see anything else wrong with it. The shower was the same as it had been when she walked in. She was alone in the room.

Megan turned, letting the light work its way around the room to show her that it was the same dingy, old off white that it had been a couple of hours ago.

She exhaled a deep breath, and turned back to the mirror.

Standing behind her, was a tall, thin man with glowing green eyes. His mouth was open wide, like a snake who was about to eat a mouse, and the green light flickered in the back of his throat.

Megan screamed again and spun around to face the creature. She stumbled backward, tripping over her herself before falling. Her head hit the edge of the bath with a thud before she bounced off the floor.

Connor closed his eyes, left his mouth hanging open, and sighed. “Delicious.”

The radio on his hip clicked and he listened to Megan check in. As he looked down at the expanding poll of blood under her head, Connor smiled, and patted his stomach.

***

Click here to continue alone the 2014 Coffin Hop

Coffin Hop #3

Welcome horror hounds and crazy chasers. Things in this story are about to get weird, but considering that this is part of the Coffin Hop for 2014, that should have been expected. I hope you enjoy the story and come back for more tomorrow.

And don’t forget to leave me a comment. That is how you can enter to win a free ARC of my first novel, Double Occupancy.

L. E. White

Feeding

 

Frankie looked around the bedroom, frowning at the peeling paint and the curtain of cobwebs that filled the window.

He reached down to his pocket for what seemed like the millionth time, and brought his arm back up with a disgusted sigh. He couldn’t understand why Connor had insisted that they not bring in any electronics besides the ones he gave them. What harm could there be in playing a game while he waited.

It wasn’t like he was going to miss something.

“Why the fuck did you let her talk you into this.” He said the words out loud, but not loud enough for anyone to hear him. Megan had asked him to come along and he never said no to Megan.

Frankie leaned his head back against the wall with a thud. He considered doing it again, but figured it would start hurting.

He closed his eyes, and the memory of Megan at her last birthday party made him smile. She had just turned 21 and he had offered to take her out for her fist drink. A lot of guys bought her drinks, and she ended up dancing on the bar. Her cloths stayed on, but not by much.

“I wish you had taken your top off,” he said.

“Why didn’t you ask me to?”

Frankie rolled away from the sound, knocking the tripod over with a small crash. He looked up, and Megan was standing there, leaned against the door frame.

“You alright there big-in?”

Frankie hated it when anyone else called him that, but with her Texas accent, he didn’t mind.

“Yeah,” he said as he heaved himself up. “What are you doing in here? I thought we were supposed to stay in our rooms.”

“I didn’t want to,” she said. “I wanted some company.”

The sound of him swallowing rang out in the room like a gunshot.

“I can leave if you don’t want me … here.”

“Oh no, that’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” She reached up and rolled the little gold charm on her necklace between her fingers. “Because if you don’t want me, I can go.”

Frankie watched her roll the charm between her fingers. He didn’t see it very often, she kept it in her shirt most of the time. After a second, he realize he could see it because her top few buttons were undone.

“What?”

“You… You weren’t wearing that earlier.”

“I wasn’t?” She smiled at him and let go of her necklace. Frankie watched her put her fingertips on either side of her chin before dragging them down her body. “I didn’t know you paid that much attention to what I wear.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t think that sounded convincing at all. “I just thought you were wearing black.”

“Nope,” she said. “I wore this on purpose. Do you remember the last time I wore this outfit?”

Frankie’s breathing became shallow as he wet his lips. “Y-y-y-yeah.” He said. “You wore that on your birthday.”

“That was so much fun,” she said, turning her back on him and beginning to dance in place. “I loved it when everyone was watching me dance.”

Frankie watched Megan move. Her hips were making tiny circles and her hands worked up and down her sides, just like she had done that night.

“I loved my last birthday.”

“I’m,” he cleared his throat. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“The only bad part of the night was you.”

He blinked.

Megan turned her head and bent at the waist. She kept shifting her hips while looking at him and he felt like her eyes were turning him to stone.

“You could have had me that night, but you didn’t try,” She said. Megan slid her feet apart and rolled her head once, tossing her hair before looking back at him again. “You chickened out and hurried me home so that none of those guys could touch me. You took me home and didn’t crawl into my bed.”

Frankie sat with his mouth hanging open.

Megan straightened up and squeezed her ass with both hands. “I come in here, start dancing and half way take my shirt off, and you still don’t move.”

She turned to face him, and he felt hot. Her shirt was unbuttoned to the waist, and he could see her chest through the skimpy lace bra she was wearing.

She moved closer, putting less than an arm’s length between them. “Well?”

He looked at her, his eyes moving from her face to her chest and then back. “I – I – I …”

Megan rolled her eyes and began buttoning her shirt up. “My god you are a loser. I throw myself at you and you are still too lazy and backward to do anything. You won’t even take pity sex when it gets served.”

Frankie’s felt his body heat up. “What do you mean pity sex?”

“You didn’t think I was doing this because of how great a guy you are did you?”

He closed his mouth and ground his teeth together.

“You did.” She said the words with so much shock. “You actually thought I might want you. Oh. My. God.” Megan was smiling from ear to ear as she headed towards the door. “You are so …”

Her words cut off when she tripped on one of the cords and fell. There was a cracking noise when her face hit the case, but she didn’t make another sound.

Frankie dropped down on the floor, sitting on his feet as he stared at her. He crawled over, rolled her onto her back, and looked at her smashed nose and busted mouth. A crease on her forehead was bright red and starting to turn into a black line. She gasped for breath before opening her eyes a little to look at him.

“No mouth to mouth,” she whispered before closing her eyes.

Frankie lowered his head and tears dripped off his cheeks.

Connor stood behind Frankie, watching, as the fat man sat on the floor, crying into his hands. In between sobs, he would reach out, running his hand over empty air, as if he was touching someone lying on the floor.

Connor bent down, closed his eyes and whispered, “How could she treat me like that? I can’t go on without her? She was the only one I ever really wanted. She was my everything.”

Frankie rocked back and forth, mumbling to himself as he repeated Connor’s words.

***

Click here to continue alone the 2014 Coffin Hop

Least I Could Do

A comic strip that I really enjoy is Least I Could Do. Most of the time, this is a funny story about a group of friends. The story is centered around one womanizing guy with a really different take on reality. The main character doesn’t even have a box to think in, he is way out there. The comic is entertaining and I have been following it for years.

This week is a little bit different.

Right now, the strip is doing a feature on great people. This strip is the one that started the week. For anyone who doesn’t follow the link, it is the comic telling you that it wants to redefine celebrity by pointing the spot light on people who are real heroes in the world. The message is simple; you are watching people who are trying to stretch their time in the spot light rather than looking around and being inspired by those who are making a difference in the world. After you look around, follow the example. Don’t worry about who is marrying who or who is buying what or who is sleeping with what. Instead, change something for the better.

My favorite quote, the one that got me to start writing is, “Do what you always do, get what you always get.” These guys did something different in an attempt to get their fans to do something different.

I think LICD is on to something. This is a good idea and posting about it seemed like a good way to support it. Consider the message.

This week’s story is one that I have submitted to a couple of contests but it didn’t make it. I like it, but I think I will share it rather than continuing to submit it around. I hope you enjoy it.

L. E. White

New Age

Jeremy leaned back, using the wall to hold him up as he tried to focus on his breathing.

Or his heartbeat.

Or on the way his knees were shaking.

He tried to focus on something, anything, as long as it wasn’t the voice.

“Are you ok?”

He jumped and shrieked at hearing yet another voice and squeezed his eyes shut. He refused to look around and find that nobody was there.

Again.

He smacked the side of his own head, just above the left ear where the node had been implanted while mumbling, “Not there,” over and over. For a week, he had been tapping or smacking the antenna that wrapped around his ear and allowed the node to connect to the net. The tech’s and diag’s and code monkeys had all examined the logs and outputs. They told him it was his imagination. One old man mentioned a feedback loop but the younger designers had declared that impossible. The technology was not the problem.

They had said Jeremy should go get a chem to help.

Like a chem was going to stop the voice. It would just knock him out so that he couldn’t hear it until he woke up again.

“Stop hitting yourself. You’re leaking.”

Jeremy opened his eyes and looked into a pair of brown ones. The tall, chocolate man had an expression between disgust and concern, though Jeremy could not tell to which side it fell. He followed the man’s gaze, to see the red on his hand.

“And now you see me,” the voice whispered. It was hidden inside of white noise from static that was not supposed to be in the signal. It had been keeping him awake, talking about how he would die and making him sick if he tried to eat. It was always there.

“Stop talking.”

“I was just checking you,” Mr. Chocolate said. The words had a deep baritone tone that Jeremy would have enjoyed imagining again if it weren’t for the sickening whisper through the white noise blur that followed up with, “And you can’t stop me from keeping tabs on you.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Fine.” Rumbled, real and alive.

“But I will just come back later.” Hissed, horrible and terrifying.

“No.” Jeremy lunged at the man. His fingers curling around the fellows neck while thumbs ground into the wind pipe of the good Samaritan. “No more. No more. No More!”

The noise of dying drowned out the electronic whine. Listening to the guy choke and gasp in his hands brought Jeremy the first reprieve from the voice in almost a month.

When the body went limp, there was a sound of bubbles popping and then silence.

He looked around before raising one hand to cup around his ear. He waited, shallow, rapid breathing beginning to make him light headed, for something else to be said. Jeremy looked at the body and sat down. He mumbled “All I wanted was quiet,” as he gripped his head in his hands and began to rock.

The street was still. Nothing moved. No breeze rustled papers. There was only silence until the sirens. “Woot, Whoop. Woot, Whoop.”

There, in the sound, in the waves generated by small electric speakers, Jeremy could hear it again.

“We have you now. Move you into a cage and talk to you all day. All day Jeremy.”

“No!”

There was no threats yelled. When Jeremy charged over the top of the fresh corpse to get to the officers they both raised their weapons. A storm of metal punched holes through his chest and left him lying on the ground. He was leaking so much more now.

He gasped his last, crying and choking on blood as he heard one final hiss.

“You will never be free.”

***

A space below a window seal held the truth. A tiny man stood upside down on the bottom of the ledge. A flash of darkness that one of the officers dismissed as an insect shot out of Jeremy’s cooling ear and landed beside the tiny man. Shadow withered and twisted until a second dark little man stood beside the first.

“I’ll be damned. You did it.”

“I told you it would work.”

“But how did you get past the iron?”

The second turned to the first, “I told you, they have no iron. They live in a world dominated by silicon and gold. The Iron Age is over.”

“He had no iron?”

“None. Clothes held together with elastic and gadgets of plastic to help face the world. His shoes didn’t even tie.”

The watcher turned to his companion. “We must tell the rest.”

“We shall tell them all and a new age, The Age of the Fae, shall rise from the blood of man and his technology.”

Little Book 5

I want to take a moment here to offer support for some of my favorite places on the web. These are all things I enjoy on a regular basis and that I think you might enjoy as well. I visit most of these sites daily and all of the weekly. In fact, these are probably the source of most of my entertainment. Check them out and if you like them, support them.

Pod Casts:

I listen to a few different ones on a regular basis. I know there are other and if you have any suggestions then please leave them in the comments.

Writing Excuses – Years of weekly episodes that are fantastic information about writing. This has taught me a lot. I am a faithful listener.

Escape Artist Pod Casts – I have mentioned these sites before. They record audio versions of all sorts of stories. Each site has a general genre that it sticks to and their work is fantastic. I hope to one day have stories on here.

Pod Castle – Fantasy

Pseudo Pod – Horror

Escape Pod – Science Fiction

Web Comics:

I am not going to something for each individual one. They all have their merits and are all fantastic. This is the order I visit them in each day. I usually spread them out through the day so that when I need a chuckle I have one. Bad days will see me visiting the archives. The only exception to this is Zen Pencils, which doesn’t do daily updates.

Calvin and Hobbes

Dilbert

Schlock Mercenary

Questionable Content

Least I Could Do

Zen Pencils

Music:

Grooveshark – This allows me to listen to whatever I want. The one problem that I have with Pandora is that it seems like they never play my seed songs. If I am seeding with them, then I must like them and want to hear them. Grooveshark lets me build a playlist out of whatever I want. I am very happy with this and if you want one of my playlists, try this one.

Well, I think that is enough for now. I hope you follow these links and enjoy the content. See you next week. Hope you enjoy the next installment of Little Book.

L. E. White

Little Book 5

Joey flipped the book open from the back and started moving forward. He ran into names five pages later. “We seem to have done a pretty good job,” he said before turning his gaze to his assistant. “When do I need to settle up with your people?”

Claire stretched in a way that only a cat can before jumping off the back of the couch. As soon as her feet hit the floor her body shifted and the busty brunette was standing in front of Joey again. “You may clear your account at any time as long as it is before you run out of pages.”

“So what happens?”

Claire brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “You must take the list to her. She will take it from you and in that moment the exchange will begin. The book’s pages will be wiped clean and she will hand you back the empty ledger.”

“So why do I need to give her the book? You have been collecting your cut of the take all along.”

“It is symbolic. You must present it to her to show that you are holding up your end of the agreement.”

***

That night, Joey and Claire drove over. The old woman was sitting in the same place that Joey had left her almost six months ago and she still had the same dress on. He looked at her with a close, scrutinizing expression as he stepped forward. She was still out of balance. Nothing about the woman was symmetrical, but now, he thought everything was off in a different way. He wasn’t sure he was remembering it right, but it looked like a mirror image of what he had seen in his mind.

“You have come to settle up like a good boy,” She said. “Morrin never showed up on his own to pay his debt.”

“I ain’t Morrin,” Joey said. “Now, do I just walk up and hand you this?”

The lopsided lady nodded with enough force to make her jowls shake and her ears wiggle. She extended her hands to Joey in the same way a little kid does when they want candy.

“Alright,” he said as he walked up to her. “Here you go.”

Their fingers touched and a spark of static cracked between them. Joey jumped and cursed, looking down and seeing a dark red mark where the electricity had burnt him.

“Thank you,” the woman said. “Catch him Claire.”

“What a…” Joey’s words faded out as he felt the room spin. Flashes of light went off all around him and for a second he thought maybe the woman had set of fireworks. The windows and walls were covered in splotches of color and Joey went down.

“Take him home and put him to bed,” the woman told Claire. “Lie with him to ease his payment.”

“He does not lie with me,” the demon said. “I will have to retrieve his concubine.”

The old woman shook her head. “His concubine will not understand the payment. It must be you.”

Claire sighed but bowed her head in supplication. She knelt, collected the unconscious form on the floor and headed out of the building. She looked at him before dumping his body into the trunk, making mental note of the white hairs that had spread over his scalp in the last few minutes.

Guest Post by Steve McHugh, author of Crimes Against Magic

I would like to welcome Steve McHugh. Thank you for posting and I look forward to more of your work.

L E White

********************************************************************************

This is actually my first ever guest blog post, so I was umming and ahing about what in the world to talk about for ages before actually putting pen to paper.

And then inspiration (or more likely one of my daughter’s toys) hit me, and I had an idea. You see, whenever I’ve ever read an interview with a writer, one question always seems to come up—what books influenced you?

Now, for the most part, these take the form of the classics: John Steinbeck, Arthur Conan Doyle, Stephen King, Tolkien, Terry Pratchett, et al—basically the great writers. But most interviews leave off one very important group of books, Comics. So, I thought I’d correct that and go through which comics have influenced my writing over the years. Books I can’t recommend enough to anyone with even a passing interest in the medium.

Preacher (Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon) – The first will probably be the most well-known of everyone on this list. Preacher is about Jesse Custer, a Preacher who is merged with Genesis (the product of merging an angel and a demon) that gives him the power of the Word of God, which makes people obey him. It’s incredible, funny, moving and utterly insane.  It should also be required reading for anything even thinking about writing. But it’s not for the easily offended.

Y: The Last Man (Brian K.Vaughan and Pia Guerra) – Yorick and his monkey Ampersand are the last only male mammals on earth to survive an unknown plague. The story is not only about why the survived, but how they can reverse the plague. It’s an excellent series.

Usagi Yojimbo (Stan Sakai) – This one about a Samurai Rabbit. Yes, you read that right. All of the characters are anthropomorphic animals, which replace humans in a 17^th century Japan setting. It’s a fantastic book with artwork that really is quite beautiful and captures both the action scenes and the quiet moments with a clarity that a lot of comics can’t manage.

The Authority (Grant Morrison and Bryan Hitch) – The Authority gained a lot notice for both its incredible artwork as well as the violence it showed. It’s about a team of superheroes that consider themselves a sort of protectors of humanity, but they went about protecting it by killing everyone who crossed them. It’s a very dark, funny and at times touching book. The Millar/Quietly era that took over afterwards is also excellent, but nowhere near as good as the original.

Spider-Man (Dan Slott and various) – The first well-known superhero comic on the list is Spider-man. Dan Slott writes the best spider-man for the last twenty years. Everything he does is incredible. There’s a lot of graphics of his work out there, but Spider-Island is probably a high-point for me. When everyone in New York is given the powers of spider-man. And it all goes very wrong from there. Long may Dan’s reign continue.

Batman (Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo) – Batman is another Superhero that everyone’s heard of. Scott Snyder’s take is considerably darker than most, and combines the use of horror to make a book that leaves you breathless with every issue. I wrote about this on my blog a few months ago and I think the sentiments I had then still stand:

“This is a mainstream superhero comic which genuinely does something compelling. The writing and art have formed a perfect match, and that’s a rare thing these days.”

So that’s it from me. Let me just thank Leonard for stealing his blog for a post. It was a pleasure to be here.

Steve McHugh can be found at https://stevejmchugh.wordpress.com and his first book Crimes Against Magic, an Urban Fantasy set in modern-day London with Historical flashbacks to early fifteenth century France, can be downloaded from Amazon now.

30DrSeuss_quotes.jpg from mamiverse.com – StumbleUpon

30DrSeuss_quotes.jpg from mamiverse.com – StumbleUpon.

I think it is just like when you buy a different car. Suddenly you start seeing them everywhere when you hadn’t really noticed anyone driving them before. I posted my take on Dr. Seuss and this is one of many on-line references to the good Doctor that I have seen since Wednesday.

Very cool.

*** EDIT ***

I just found out that today is the good Doctor’s birthday.

I feel sheepish, Yes I do. I feel sheepish, how about you?

Happy Holidays and Congratulations

Well, The 12 Days of Creepfest have come and gone. The holiday is here and my haiku contest has come to an end. Honestly, I am a little disappointed. Only three brave souls actually put pen to paper and gave me a haiku.

So, Three prizes shall be awarded. Each of you will receive a copy of my Novella, The First Door from Smashwords via my freebie coupon. I will also need an e-mail address to send you a copy of one of my new short stories in a PDF. I really appreciate that you took the time to write something. Every comment is great and I am always excited to see what others think of my work.

Thanks to everyone who stopped in. Double thanks to everyone who left a comment. Finally, deep personal thanks and prizes to everyone who entered. I truly appreciate that.

Start looking for updates every Wednesday. I will be back after the weekend.

L. E. White

Waking up on the wrong side of the bed

The tiny clicking noise woke her up. Someone was typing which didn’t make any sense. She was alone. When she tried to sit up she found that she couldn’t move. Numbness lived where her hands and feet should be. She started to yell but the gag over her mouth stopped her. Panic took a vicious hold as she struggled to get free. Then the clicking just stopped, replaced by heavy footsteps coming closer. She nearly vomited when she felt the bed shift. The warm moist air that brushed her face smelled rotten. A single cold touch screamed the future.