another loner, who inherits an antique bookshop from his father. Struggling to keep the business alive (and also yearning for an everlasting token that he could touch and
feel
) he decides to revive the ancient trend. It follows a similar theme as the other stories in this collection. This “art” existed. Perhaps it still does. Realistic horror, remember? As morbid as it sounds, I thought the idea was worth exploring. I'm telling you, there are plenty of weirdoes out there (why you looking at me?) who would jump at the opportunity! Forget cremation. Forget ashes. Forget urns. When the time comes, I'm planning on using my dad's skin to bind my own books. He just doesn't know it yet.
The Wandering Pilgrim
Rasputin. I've been fascinated by this mystical figure for many years, especially his renown influence over Alexandra Feodorovna (wife of Nicholas II, the last Tsar of Russia). I originally wrote this piece for
Flash Masters 2
—a flash fiction contest organised by
Grey Matter Press
. The rules dictated a length of 250 words. I gave it a shot and the story won a Reader's Choice category. Not bad, eh? Still, I thought it would benefit from a little expansion. Obviously, this isn't quite horror. Rasputin's reputation included an insatiable lust for power and debauchery. So I rolled with that. Again (and you'll be sick of hearing this by now) I attempted to keep the “realistic” horror element present by having a character, who sexually exploits a woman under hypnosis. Losing control of our own mind and body is a frightening prospect. As with the other stories, hypnosis is
real
. Now look into my eyes…
The Deep End
I have very little recollection of this tale and the inspiration behind it. It's my least favourite story in the collection.
Manor House Show
bought it and recorded an audio version that did surprisingly well. I suppose if I plunge into the deepest depths of my memory (see what I did there?) it was inspired by a Slovakian au pair my friend once dated. Apparently, she was full of entertaining stories that included washing her employer's shit-stained boxers. How we laughed. So I created an au pair named Eva, who moans about the British culture and the family she works for. Then I threw a spoiled, jealous child into the mix. I sidestepped the realistic horror approach on this one (boo!) and included a mythological creature called
Morgen
. It was loosely based on the Welsh/Arthurian legends. The
Morgens
(similar to
Sirens
from the Greek mythos) lure men to their deaths with their beauty and visions of underwater gardens, built from gold and silver. Granted, you probably won't find one of them in a pool in your local leisure centre—but I thought it would be fun to try anyway! My intention was not to give too much away, therefore the appearance of
Morgen
remains obscure (all the reader “sees” are strands of hair, floating in the drain at the bottom of the pool). The story has a speculative ending. Make of that what you will.
Eucalyptus Grove
This is an odd one. It's loosely based on the Elyse Pahler murder. Three teenage boys lured their friend to eucalyptus grove, to hang out and smoke weed. Then they wrapped a belt around the 15-year-old girl's neck and stabbed her to death. Why did they commit such an atrocity? Because they were devotees of the heavy metal band
Slayer
and believed that they needed to offer a “sacrifice” to the Devil—to give their own garage band the craziness to go professional. With this particular story, I had to tread very carefully for many reasons. After weeks of writing and re-writing, I decided to scrap it. I just couldn't find the right angle. Months later, I had a conversation with Lisa Knight (editor of my first collection,
Moribund Tales
). She asked to read the story and encouraged me to revive it. I wanted to make it clear that the two boys killed her for the music, but this third guy developed a thirst for blood (no, not like a vampire—you douche) and couldn't
feel
) he decides to revive the ancient trend. It follows a similar theme as the other stories in this collection. This “art” existed. Perhaps it still does. Realistic horror, remember? As morbid as it sounds, I thought the idea was worth exploring. I'm telling you, there are plenty of weirdoes out there (why you looking at me?) who would jump at the opportunity! Forget cremation. Forget ashes. Forget urns. When the time comes, I'm planning on using my dad's skin to bind my own books. He just doesn't know it yet.
The Wandering Pilgrim
Rasputin. I've been fascinated by this mystical figure for many years, especially his renown influence over Alexandra Feodorovna (wife of Nicholas II, the last Tsar of Russia). I originally wrote this piece for
Flash Masters 2
—a flash fiction contest organised by
Grey Matter Press
. The rules dictated a length of 250 words. I gave it a shot and the story won a Reader's Choice category. Not bad, eh? Still, I thought it would benefit from a little expansion. Obviously, this isn't quite horror. Rasputin's reputation included an insatiable lust for power and debauchery. So I rolled with that. Again (and you'll be sick of hearing this by now) I attempted to keep the “realistic” horror element present by having a character, who sexually exploits a woman under hypnosis. Losing control of our own mind and body is a frightening prospect. As with the other stories, hypnosis is
real
. Now look into my eyes…
The Deep End
I have very little recollection of this tale and the inspiration behind it. It's my least favourite story in the collection.
Manor House Show
bought it and recorded an audio version that did surprisingly well. I suppose if I plunge into the deepest depths of my memory (see what I did there?) it was inspired by a Slovakian au pair my friend once dated. Apparently, she was full of entertaining stories that included washing her employer's shit-stained boxers. How we laughed. So I created an au pair named Eva, who moans about the British culture and the family she works for. Then I threw a spoiled, jealous child into the mix. I sidestepped the realistic horror approach on this one (boo!) and included a mythological creature called
Morgen
. It was loosely based on the Welsh/Arthurian legends. The
Morgens
(similar to
Sirens
from the Greek mythos) lure men to their deaths with their beauty and visions of underwater gardens, built from gold and silver. Granted, you probably won't find one of them in a pool in your local leisure centre—but I thought it would be fun to try anyway! My intention was not to give too much away, therefore the appearance of
Morgen
remains obscure (all the reader “sees” are strands of hair, floating in the drain at the bottom of the pool). The story has a speculative ending. Make of that what you will.
Eucalyptus Grove
This is an odd one. It's loosely based on the Elyse Pahler murder. Three teenage boys lured their friend to eucalyptus grove, to hang out and smoke weed. Then they wrapped a belt around the 15-year-old girl's neck and stabbed her to death. Why did they commit such an atrocity? Because they were devotees of the heavy metal band
Slayer
and believed that they needed to offer a “sacrifice” to the Devil—to give their own garage band the craziness to go professional. With this particular story, I had to tread very carefully for many reasons. After weeks of writing and re-writing, I decided to scrap it. I just couldn't find the right angle. Months later, I had a conversation with Lisa Knight (editor of my first collection,
Moribund Tales
). She asked to read the story and encouraged me to revive it. I wanted to make it clear that the two boys killed her for the music, but this third guy developed a thirst for blood (no, not like a vampire—you douche) and couldn't
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