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New! THE DRAIN, a Paranormal Horror Short Story

 

New!

THE DRAIN
Paranormal Horror Short Story
by Linda Mooney writing as Gail Smith
Word Count:  5.7K
$0.99 e

It was meant to be a long weekend, semi-vacation at their favorite tourist trap, New York City.

You've heard the old wives' tales of alligators in the sewers?  What the Duchins discovered was much, much worse. discovered was much, much worse.

Excerpt and Buy Links

Crimson Vale: A Modern Gothic Love Story by Jennifer Harlow

Crimson Vale: A Modern Gothic Love Story
by Jennifer Harlow

Genre: Horror, Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Devil on the Left Books

Date of Publication: September 11, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-7326854-0-6 

ISBN: 978-1-7326854-1-3

ASIN: B07GD4QTC3

Number of pages: 300

Word Count: 99,000

Cover Artist: Jennifer Dowis

Tagline: Lust…Murder…Madness. Welcome to Crimson Vale.

Book Description:

Lust…Murder…Madness…

Welcome to Crimson Vale.

It’s a dream come true. A vast inheritance. A beautiful mansion in the heart of the small town South. A seductive, mysterious, literal man of her dreams offering true, pure love. Ravaged in both body and mind, Jane Harrow leaps into that living dream with abandon.

Despite the voices.

Despite the visions.

Despite the warnings from both the living and the dead.

Because what Jane doesn’t know is nothing and no one are what they seem.

Because demons from the past are patient. Because dreams can quickly turn into living nightmares, especially in…Crimson Vale

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Excerpt:

This must be where it happened. My uncle lay in this room for close to forty years with my grandmother by his side, apparently knitting as the tubes and respirator kept him…I wouldn’t call that alive. Undead.  What on earth was she thinking? Waiting one year sure, but thirty-plus? Giving up her own life to watch over a comatose man? Insanity. It really must run in the blood. I only hope—

Creaking in the hallway startles me out of my dark thoughts. Darn it, I guess he didn’t leave. I’m not sure how much longer I can handle social niceties. I’m exhausted from the drive, not to mention out of practice with people, and would derive great satisfaction from smacking that letch with my purse should he glimpse down my shirt again. I just want to take a shower, get into my pajamas, and sleep for a week. Have to get him out of here first. I walk into the hallway.

Everything stops.

My lungs, my heart, even my ability to blink stops the moment I set eyes on him. If it were storming outside I would swear I’d just been hit by a bolt of lightning. Time stands as still as we do, just staring at one another with the same awestruck expression. The stranger my age is a few inches over six foot with a lean body encased in an expensive gray suit with matching tie and vest. He could grace the pages of a magazine with that suit, wavy dirty blonde hair with a lock brushing his forehead and coiffed to appear slightly disheveled, big blue eyes, feminine lips, straight nose, and strong jaw ending at a pointed chin. He’s around my age, but as our eyes meet and another wave of whatever this is jolts through me, he seems a century older and I’ve known him every moment, every millisecond of that time. I’m scared, exhilarated, unnerved all at once. But deep down there’s a …recognition peeking through the strum and drang.

I never believed in love at first sight, and I don’t know if that’s what this is, but every atom of mine senses, every atom of his calling to me, screaming for me to sprint over to this stranger, tear off our clothes, and have him rut me like a beast right on the hardwood floor. To feel him stretching me, thrusting inside me. My most sacred place pulsates and grows wet just from the mere thought. What the heck is happening to me? This stranger must be suffering the same torment because those blue eyes grow ravenous like an anorexic faced with prime rib. No one’s ever gazed at me like this, with pure unadulterated, hot, wild, salivating lust. The same way I’m gazing at him. My resolve to remain on my side of the hall cracks with each passing moment. His fails. He lets out a soft grunt and takes a stride toward me. Thank God.

“Mrs. Harrow?”

Those two words break whatever enchantment engulfed me. I somehow pry my eyes away from the stranger toward the creaky stairs. Suddenly I’m freezing and trembling as if in shock. At least I can breathe again, though only in short bursts. D.J. takes the final step up into the hallway. “Oh, good, you found her,” he says to the stranger.

“Yes,” the man says, quiet voice cracking a tad, “I did.”

“Mrs. Harrow, may I present my son, Bram. He’s the one who tracked you down.” D.J. glances from his son to me, eyes narrowing in confusion. “What the hell is the matter with you two? Y’all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“We’re fine, sir,” Bram says with only a faint trace of a Southern accent. “Just got a chill. Old house and all.”

“Oh. Well, you can get someone to fix that, I guess. Bram can give you the handyman’s name and number. He’s been the one taking care of things. Hey,” he says to his son, “I’ve been meaning to ask. What happened to all those weird looking creatures and symbols that used to be on all the walls and tables? The gargoyles and such? There were still a ton of them even after the renovation.”

“I, uh, had them removed.” Bram turns to me. “I hope you don’t think I overstepped my bounds. I had them remove the medical equipment too and clean up. I just…wanted to cheer the place up for your arrival.”

“Um, thank you. For thinking of me.”

“Your grandmother would have wanted me to, um, make things as comfortable for you as possible.”

“You’re very kind,” I say, blushing. I’m sure as red as a fire engine. I look over at D.J. “Both of you.”

“So, have you decided what you’re going to do with the place?” D.J. asks me.

“I haven’t really thought that far ahead.”

“But you’re planning on staying, right?” Bram asks with urgency. “At least for a while?”

I meet his eyes again, instantly overpowered by the intense fear in them. I can stand it for only a millisecond. “Um, I-I guess.”

“Well, you are welcome to stay here while the will’s in probate. Or the Cypress Hotel is lovely. There’s also the Crimson Vale Motel, but it’s a tad low rent.”

“Um…” Do I really want to spend the night alone in this house? Two people died here, and those are just the ones I know of. I don’t believe in ghosts—your soul either enters heaven or hell—but this house feels as if it’s under an enchantment. Frozen in time by an evil witch. But it’s mine. I came all this way, and if I don’t stay in this house tonight, I never will. “No, I’ll be staying here. The letter said everything was still turned on?”

“It is,” Bram says. “I-we kept the utilities up to date for when you finally arrived.”

“Thank you. Both.”

We stand in silence for a few awkward moments. I sense Bram staring at me, waiting for something, but I can’t return his gaze. My eyes remain glued to the floor. “Well,” D.J. says, “we’ll get out of your hair. You’re probably tired from your trip. Bram?” The son follows the father down the hall and stairs with me three steps behind to show them out. Bram glances back, each time his mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it each time. “You have my card if you have any questions,” D.J. continues. “Don’t hesitate to call, even if it’s just for the name of a good restaurant.”

“Thank you.”

The men step out onto the porch, but I wait at the threshold. “Remember. Anything,” D.J. adds as he ambles to his BMW.

All I want is for you to leave now. “I will. Thank you.”

His son moves toward his own BMW SUV, but halfway there Bram suddenly stops, doesn’t move for a moment, then spins around to face me. For some reason my stomach clenches from nerves as he does. I grip the door handle in case he’s about to finish what he started in the hall, whatever that was. “I, um, I…” he says. His mouth clamps shut again to find the right words. If possible, he’s as unnerved as I am. He shakes his head to clear it and smiles. “Welcome home, Jane.”

Those words send a cascade of warmth through my body like warn rain just washed over me. I haven’t a clue what to say back. All I can manage is a weak smile before retreating inside like a mouse into a hole. The moment the door shuts, I turn my back to it and rest against the wood with a sigh. What is the matter with me? Have I replaced voices and seeing invisible people with nymphomania? I remain pressed against the door until I hear both men drive away, the tension waning as the sounds fade, leaving nothing but glorious silence. The house is still. My house. Mine.

Home.

About the Author:

Jennifer Harlow spent her restless childhood fighting with her three brothers and scaring the heck out of herself with horror movies and books. She grew up to earn a degree at the University of Virginia which she put to use as a radio DJ, crisis hotline volunteer, bookseller, lab assistant, wedding coordinator, and government investigator. Currently she calls Atlanta home but that restless itch is ever present. In her free time she continues to scare the beejepers out of herself watching scary movies and opening her credit card bills. She is the author of the Amazon best-selling F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad, Midnight Magic Mystery series, The Galilee Falls Trilogy, and won the Independent Publisher’s Award for Best Mystery Novel.

For the soundtrack to her books and other goodies visit her at www.jenniferharlowbooks.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/jenharlowbooks

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jennifer.harlow.52

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4708453.Jennifer_Harlow

Mailing List: https://bit.ly/2MPt2iY

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jennifer-harlow

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Now Available as an Audio Book!

POSSESSION
Paranormal/Urban Fantasy Romance 
by Linda Mooney
Narrated by Guy Veryzer
Length: 7 hrs, 4 min.

Hear a Sample 

If you were murdered by a stranger, wouldn’t you want the chance to be able to come back and find out who killed you? And why?

J was born blind, but she could "see" things. Her gift has always helped the police find such things as missing persons, serial killers... a ghost or two.

Detective Kiel Stark has worked homicide for eight years, but he has never met this mysterious Seer his fellow officers claim could almost perform miracles. Not until a gruesome triple homicide has his superiors calling in the reserved woman to help with the case.

Now Stark is faced with a double threat. Not only is he finding himself dangerously attracted to the enigmatic beauty, but she could very well discover his own carefully guarded secret—a secret that could bring an end to his career, his way of life, and any future he had hoped to have.

Excerpt and buy links.

New! SILENT NIGHT, FINAL NIGHT, a Christmas Horror Story

SILENT NIGHT, FINAL NIGHT

A Christmas Horror Story

by Linda Mooney writing as Gail Smith

Word Count:  20.3K
$1.99 e 

A family on the run, searching for food, shelter, and others not infected.

A plague is wiping out the population, stealing the humanity from people and turning them into monsters. Kem and Armand are willing to do whatever it takes to protect their daughter and survive. Nothing is promised -- not life, not their next meal, not even a decent night’s rest.

The quality of life is quickly diminishing. How much is too much? How long until the fight for survival is no longer worth it, and it’s time for a dignified end rather than a slow, painful death?

Excerpt and buy links.

Re-released! E I E I O, a Story of Cannibalistic Horror

Re-released!

E I E I O
A Story of Cannibalistic Horror
by Linda Mooney
Writing as Gail Smith
Music And Press
ISBN 978-1-941321-28-7
Word Count: 12.1K
$1.99

Old MacDonald had a farm, E I E I O

And on this farm he had some pigs, E I E I O

With a hack hack here,
and a chop chop there,

Here a shriek, there a scream

Everywhere the blood streams...                                           

Old MacDonald had a farm, E I E I O

In rural Georgia in 1948, a man was lucky to get any kind of work.  Which was why Cletus Pink felt he'd been blessed when an old farmer named MacDonald offered him a job.  But what was making the horrific sounds coming from the main house? Worse, why was there always fresh blood oozing out from underneath the kitchen's back door?

Click here for excerpt and buy links.

Monday Movie Review - NECROSIS (aka Blood Snow)

Good premise - check.
Good looking DVD cover - check.

Good movie - uhhhh...

After six friends arrive at a mountain cabin for a long weekend, a monstrous snowstorm traps them. Soon the spirits of the Donner Party -- frontier settlers who resorted to cannibalism in a similar snowstorm -- begin to haunt them. As they start turning on each other, it's not clear whether the ghosts are real or the result of their fear.

Six twenty-somethings, trapped in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a snowstorm where no one can escape to find help.  And, of course, the phones don't work.  Being hunted by figures in the dark that aren't scary.  The blood is there, but the kills aren't spectacular.  It's more of a who-can-seduce-whom via hot tub and bikinis, and then let's go snowmobiling. 

Sadly, I almost couldn't finish this, but I was curious to find out who survived.

My recommendation: 

Win a Copy of E I E I O!

If you're into horror, you could win a copy of my latest horror book, EIEIO (Linda Mooney writing as). Simply read the blurb here, then send me the name of the poor soul who went to work for farmer MacDonald. Email it to me here. Put EIEIO in the subject header.

Good luck!

New! CANCELLATION

Beware of what might happen
if you get behind
on your credit card payments.

You can purchase it here!

Welcome!

WELCOME!

I love horror! I read it, I watch it, and I write it. And I love to talk about it. Trouble is, I couldn't in all honestly start including reviews for books or movies I've seen over on my romance blog. So I created this one.

If you're an afficionado of the horror genre, I bid you a warm, wet welcome, and hope you'll come by often to see what I have to offer.