across the yard:
green yellow grass
silvered timber porch
like black ink blots
the shadows slowly roll
the gray weatherboard
at the back of the house
still cold with morning
despite the bright glare of the sun
I remember summer
with the senses
the blue sky
long crisp grass of summer
cool rivers filled with swimming
bush clad adventures
hot sweat tiredness
the death of youth
I remember summer
shed with each chilled gust
of spring wind
now rising coldly
against the past.
The Road Less Travelled
Review one from Sonar 4 Publications, Shells Walter
"When one thinks of horror, there are so many extremes that can be done in writing. The Masters of Horror: The Anthology is no different. The 16 authors that fill this anthology bring terror, darkness and a whole lot of push that any horror lover would want. Authors such as Carole Gill with her story ‘ Truth Hurts’ , William Cook with ‘Devil Inside’ and several more stories bring the horror genre into its true form.
The one thing that stands out about this anthology is that no two stories are the same. Yes, they are horror, but each one brings in a new tasty scary delight. Triskaideka Books has done an amazing job of bringing all this talent into one anthology. There is no anthology out such as this and one that needs to be on everyone’s bookshelf at one time or another. Jumping into this world of darkness only brings forward the most compelling and interesting tales seen in a long time. It is worth the read and worth keeping for years to come."
Second review from A. R. Braun
"This was an entertaining read from beginning to end. The stories lurking within truly creeped me out on so many levels. There’s still a bit of proofreading to be done, but what published book is typoless? Sixteen authors contributed to this antho’ guaranteed to rob you of sleep at night by bringing you the nightmare you’ve most feared…
The first three stories are excellent. I especially loved Carole Gill’s “Truth Hurts,” where a woman writing about douchey vampires gets her comeuppance. A man is seduced by the lamia in “Ladies of the Scale” by Bob Morgan Jr., and Lee Pletzer’s “Teeth” will make you think twice about taking your son fishing again. A boy gets revenge on abusive adults in “Devil Inside” by William Cook, and we go on a Lovecraftian journey with Jason Warden’s amazing story, “Once Seen.” K.K.’s “The Visitation” will have you shuddering, and Mark Edward Hall’s “The Fear” makes a case against hunting for a lost relative. Other great, creepy tales are “Wounds” by Joseph Mulak and “The Barnes Family Reunion” by Angel Leigh McCoy.
One of my favorite parts of the book is the unrestrained gore, but if psychological is your thing, you’ll also find compelling stories within. When this book comes out, any horror fan would be a fool not to get a copy.
More reviews will be available on the website, including interviews with the authors."
Source: Masters of Horror reviews
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The Masters of Horror Anthology which contains my story "Devil Inside," as well as many other great stories, is now available. The print version doesn't come out till the end of April. but the digital version of the book is available now from Smashwords for $1.99. It's available in several formats including PDF, Kindle, LRM (sony), E-Pub, PDB (Palm) as well as others. Check it out if you are so inclined. You can get it here.
Hi, it's been a while as I have been working frantically to complete my novel before Christmas time. It has been a 'work in progress' for the past four years and i'm pleased to say that the end is nigh. I am editing the last draft and will have it ready for submission to publishers in the New Year. As you can probably guess from the book cover mock-up (by yours truly) and the working title, it is a novel about a killer. Actually about a family of killers to be exact, told through the journals of a budding serial killer whose twin brother is also afflicted with the same unfortunate disposition.
I guess you could place this novel under the genre banner of 'Serial Killer Fiction,' or crime fiction. I realise that this field is littered with cliched monsters all trying to replicate the success of Harris's Hannibal Lecter trilogy +, hopefully I might have succeeded in providing a new twist to the genre - or at least to the smaller sub-genre of 'First-person Serial Killer Fiction.' Whew, anyway - worth a crack, so there it is.
If I don't have any success with publishers I will probably post it here in installments for at least some people to read and hopefully enjoy.
If anyone has any publishing contacts who might be interested in this kind of work please let me know via email@example.com. Also, what do you think of the cover?
Have a great Christmas everyone. Will/Grant.
This seat is hard, my shins are cold, my socks are low & black with grime, my shoes are stiff, my knees ache with the weight of my worn corduroys — the night is warm & noisy, so dark it is, that abstract & absolute light which is darkness — it is so dark tonight . . . Wait! There is light, a shimmering speck, by Jehovah! & Then cans twang bottles clang & smash, paper blows its rustled way wrapping around my lower leg like a flaky piece of skin or the slap of a bird’s flapping wing & then it’s taken by another breeze in the black city night — that light small speck I saw is extinguished now by the black hulk of a looming tower block — frail barks flounder in darkness, speech silent for a still savage moment . . .
My neck is sore I crane it skyward searching the churning ether for that noisy light . . .
A shock of burning white light — the infinite brightness violently broke through into vision — the corneas ripped from their lethargic slumber — the howling light turns blue, bouncing off the geometric multiplicity of the chainlink fence I clutch at, frantically gasping at the light on the other side — arcing shadows dance beneath the light’s accusing glare . . . lingering — I am shaking I am fear I am death I am insane I am paralysed I can’t move I can’t see I am dead I am about to be killed. . .
PLEASE!!! Please . . .?
I’m still on the bench seat in the trash-blown park, my legs nailed to my seat to the concrete thru right to burning hell . . . — STAY WHERE YOU ARE — DO NOT MOVE — IF YOU DO SO YOUR LIFE WILL BE TERMINATED — I REPEAT DO NOT MOVE —footsteps shuffling then a broken run, boots slapping asphalt louder, quite, yes there they are a stampede, ground rumbles thunderclaps hammer on steel, bombs drop resound — No, nononononono . . .
The light goes off. I am released. The sound breaks like a truck passing — a distant rumble then the noise of the dead man’s bones return to their creaking — halfalive halfalive halfalive — my breath is smoke, my eyes throb, my brain burns, my heart tries to saw its way out through my crumbling ribcage — I release a sigh, exhale, to end all sighs.
I close my eyes & feel & smell the dirty hot warm air of hell caressing my face, my hair, creeping up my trouser leg, crawling across my heaving gut & across my bruised bare chest — a massive hole now gaping blackly just above the left nipple, the icon of Mary grinning in the growing light — I lay back on the hard bench — the smog flavored morning bleeds light across the bay, a tugboat blares its horn through the fog, the trash barge shunts its bulk through the mist across the harbor to refuse island, car lights cut across the motorway invading the sleeping city, a silver-snake of train thunders past on the stilt-tracks, police sirens blare in the distance & a cold wind wipes my face.
A gull floating in on the light & breeze, eyes me suspiciously, dips its wings & turns circles above me looking down with malice & a perceptible hunger as it stretches its sharp red beak screaming at me — CAWCAWCAWCAWCAW . . . all black & white — Babylon fading . . .
If you're a fan of good old fashioned thrillers or serial killer novels, here are seven reasons why you should give my novel, Blood Rela...