William Cook

This story recently won 'Runner-Up' in the P a rlor of Horror's 2016 short fiction awards and is also part of my collection 'Dreams of Thanatos' - now available to all new subscribers for free - click on the image at the end of this post to download your copy. Dead Memories 1. I had a dream on the anniversary of her death. In the dream, I heard her unmistakable voice calling me, then I saw her and she was so real, I could almost touch her again. Everything about her hit me deep in the chest, I sat bolt upright in our big empty bed. My breath gasped, sweat beaded itself on my cold skin. I could still hear her voice in the dark. I rationalized there were only two possible reasons why I could hear such a thing. I was either hallucinating, or what I heard was her ghost whispering in my ear. Then she was gone again.

Hello everyone! Apologies for the lack of regular posts lately. Life has been very busy - we are packing once again for a move into a new house amongst other things. I have also been furiously editing and pruning my debut novel (Blood Related) into shape after having received the rights back recently. With a few more years of writing experience under my belt and a fresh perspective on a work that was published over three years ago, I have been merciless in my edits/rewrites and I think my readers will agree - it is a vastly improved story. I plan on an early July release in both Print and EBook. I feel really excited about the redux version and have a strong way forward with the sequel - yes, there will be a sequel, tentatively titled 'Blood Trail.' Another exciting development is that I have received a wicked blurb from one of my favorite horror authors, Graham Masterton ( The Manitou, The Sleepless etc). A truly generous author and a great inspiration. Here's the blurb: ...

1. I had a dream on the anniversary of her death. In the dream, I heard her unmistakable voice calling me, then I saw her and she was so real, I could almost touch her again. Everything about her hit me deep in the chest, I sat bolt upright in our big empty bed. My breath gasped, sweat beaded itself on my cold skin. I could still hear her voice in the dark. I rationalized there were only two possible reasons why I could hear such a thing. I was either hallucinating, or what I heard was her ghost whispering in my ear. Then she was gone again. I lay down and listened, my breath held in my chest, afraid to break the silence. The dawn light bled through the cracks in the blind as I strained my ears, listening. Listening for her sweet voice, playing her words over repeatedly in my weary mind – ‘There’s no turning back. There’s no turning back now.’ I longed for her touch, the feel of her soft cold skin, her beautiful words carried on her sweet breath. The memories came flooding back – ...