After a ton of hard work (not only by me and Chantell Renee but 4 other indie authors) the newest anthology from the Hair Raising Tales series, and the first collection from Mad Girl’s publishing is now available for pre-order!
‘Hair Raising Tales of Villainous Confessions’ will go live on Valentines Day (2/14/2018) and is perfect for the reader that you love, or even the horror reader within.
Inside you’ll b enraptured by thirteen stories from six indie authors that make you think beyond the fairy tale image of ‘evil’.
Tales ranging from murderous children to a mother’s never ending love, ‘Hair Raising Tales of Villainous Confessions’ will make you think of the wicked in a whole new light.
This collections includes words from award-winning authors like Jae Mazer, and emerging writers like Kyle D. Garrett. Available for preorder NOW on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07969BKMF
To get a taste of what you’re in for I’ve posted the beginning of one of my pieces ‘The Orchard’ which is (at least right now) the darkest story I’ve ever written. Please be aware the story contains MATURE CONTENT!
By Melissa Algood
“I got her.”
“Bullshit.” A metallic click, a hiss, then I put the can of rock gut to my lips.
“I can show you.” A plume of smoke followed his words.
“Show me what?”
“I kept her, so you could see.”
“You think I’m some kinda freak?”
For a second his eyes glazed over before his irises took hold of me. “You think I’m a freak?”
“Nah, man.” More beer oozed down my throat. “I mean I know you’ve been talking about it, but talking ain’t doing.”
“I told you, I got her.”
“Fine.” I threw the empty can into the trashcan. “Show me.”
All the roads in our town were dirt, not a stoplight to speak of. Everyone that lived out here knew where they were without street signs. Which was good considering we only had a handful of those. Jerry and I had lived together for a couple of years. He’d never brought a girl home, as far as I could remember, but he paid his half of all the bills on time. Up until now I didn’t mind hearing him talk about the women in town, one in particular, but I never thought that he’d really do anything about it.
“It was late, you know after the ball game, so she was out. I got into the back window. It was open just like you said…”
My jaw clenched. “I never said anything to you, Jerry.”
His hands were still on ten and two when he turned to me. “Don’t you remember, Noah? Back when we were looking at the yearbook a few months ago?”
Jerry’s words bounced around the inside of the Silverado.
“Shut the fuck up with that,” I said. The memory of the both of us drunk enough to admit our deepest desires, but sober enough to make a plan, boiled in my stomach. “Don’t ever talk about that night again. You got it?”
“Jerry you’re so fucking stupid. Just keep your damn mouth shut.”
The out-of-towners that came to see the leaves change could never tell the difference between one tree and another, but I was born here so each piece of greenery was its own landmark. I could smell the crisp apples in the air long before Jerry made the turn into the orchard. The acres that spanned before us were more than a food source; teenagers used them as a local spot for parties.
The first time I came out to the orchard was in fifth grade when the word around school was that the Buckhill brothers were going to rage on each other over the head cheerleader of our town’s only high school. I could still feel the rush when one brother knocked out the other’s front teeth. Iron still lingered in the air, although this time I knew that Jerry was the cause.