Showing posts with label apocalyptic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apocalyptic. Show all posts

Sunday, August 6, 2023

Revelation #8Sunday

    


Book: The Damned

Stories: The Drain, The Enforcers, The Fog, On a Spring Day, and The Trial.

ASIN: B0C82RQFSZ

Publication Date: September 23, 2023

Genre: Flash Fiction, Horror

Buy Link: http://books2read.com/DamnedDrabbles

Price: $1.99 ebook (Pre-order price)

Book Blurb:

Bite-sized horror stories are brought to you by thirteen authors. From creepy crawlies to the seemingly normal pets. From hideous monsters lurking in the dark to charismatic people showing their true colors.

Each tale is precisely 100 words and leaves a long-lasting chilling effect. Some will make you question the security of the world around you, and what’s more terrifying than that?

Featuring drabbles from Storm Lomax, Jonathan Reddoch, Zari Hunt, Kellee Kranendonk, Andreas Flögel, Simon Clarke, Jacek Wilkos, Ferenc K. Zoltán, Vanessa Bane, C.L. Hart, Natascha Eschweiler, Angela Zimmerman, and J.E. Feldman.

Pre-Excerpt Information

I wrote this drabble along with 29 others for potential inclusion in The Damned, an anthology of drabbles from Dragon Soul Press. I'm not sure why it wasn't selected as it seems creepy enough to me. But what do I know?

So, why in the world am I sharing it here?

Because there are approximately 13 weeks until the anthology is published. My contract stipulates that I can't share more than 500 words from the anthology prior to publication. That's all five of my selected stories. So, what in the heck would I share during the other eight weeks?

The other drabbles that didn't make the cut for this anthology, of course! 

The following drabble may be similar to other drabbles that did make the cut. It's pretty cool in its own right.

Photo by George Dagerotip (dagerotip) on Unsplash

Revelation

The cards drawn in this combination could only mean one thing, but Andorra Gronchio had no idea what to do about it. The dancer cavorting across a desert wasteland, celebrating victory. A supplicant begging for mercy as flies devour her eyes. The false prophet with his self-assured smirk, beckoning followers. The high priestess beseeching the Heavens for true guidance. The Ascended One seated in lotus position on a cushion, the celestial firmament surrounding her, the eternal inferno below. Lastly, the diamond-shaped eye of darkness floating in the everlasting void from whence all things emerged and to which all things return.




About the Author:

C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is described as The Mad Scribe of the Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That Should Not Be.

When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes will be considered palatable.

Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch horrors.

Follow C. L. Hart

C. L. Hart Amazon Author Page

https://bit.ly/CLHartAmazonAuthor

C. L. Hart New and Improved Newsletter

https://www.subscribepage.com/clhart

Naughty Netherworld Press Blog

http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com

Naughty Netherworld Press Books

https://bit.ly/NNPBooks

Naughty Netherworld Press Substack

https://naughtynetherworldpress.substack.com

Readers Roost Book Blog

https://bit.ly/ReadersRoost

Readers Roost Facebook

http://www.facebook.com/OrneryOwlsRoost

Readers Roost Twitter

https://twitter.com/ReadersRoost


While checking out the offerings from Weekend Writing Warriors, why not try a cup of Coffee Brand Coffee? No fancy packaging, no gimmicks, just great coffee. Lots of different flavors to choose from. 







Sunday, January 25, 2015

Silent Spell



Silent Spell

If my words could carry across the miles
Would my aim be good enough
To float across the land dried by the scorch of the sun
To maybe reach into your mind
To softly caress your spirit
To ring a gentle chime
And give you a sign
That the spell you didn't know you cast
Worked full well on my foolish heart
Which is now filled with emotions that others deride as trite
For you I would gladly walk into the night
And disappear from this soulless, heartless world forever

~Cie~