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Mental Ward: Experiments

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We’ll take fine care of your loved one – no need to worry…

A dank basement, shadow filled hallways, the deep echo of a metal latch being thrown while faint screams are heard… These are the things you might experience in a place where the unspeakable happens, where conscientious action and moral turpitude turn a blind eye in the interest of advancing one’s own personal pursuits in the most deranged and unjustifiable manner. The type of place where power corrupts, and depravity runs rampant among those imbued with it. A place where the unfortunate are abandoned to the devices of those who convince themselves their actions are in the best interest of science.

Mental Ward: Experiments is a collection of ten short stories that demonstrate the worst of humanity’s ambition in the interest of ‘civilized’ advancement. Step into a world where sanity is left behind, and horror is what the doctor ordered!

Featuring:

Anomaly, Sarah Doebereiner
Dread Pink, Guy Medley
Rorschach, L.E. White
Bell Haven, Frank Collia
Gingham Curtains and Electric Shock, Gwendolyn Kiste
Alice, Stephanie Nett
A Mutual Understanding, Nica Berry
A Taste for Lunacy, John Pham
Ambrosia, Kyle Yadlosky
No Man’s Land Dance, Vic Kerry

Click here to grab your free copy on Amazon! —>>>

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Click here to grab your free copy on Amazon! —>>>

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Anna Davis @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


May2020_Image_03
Winter Woods
by Anna Davis

The winter woods—
They call to me.
Like a wolf among the pines,
They capture my mind and ignite my soul.
The way the moonlight
Reflects off birch-bark and cruel frost
Pulls the forest
Into me.
Leave me in the glacial winds
And stinging rain.
Leave me to this frozen landscape;
It shores up my soul.
The snow on the ground,
Like a million blazing stars fallen to Earth,
Brings me salvation—
Redemption from my past.
I seek not self-punishment
Or a beautiful pain,
But icy forest mornings
And nights of biting breeze.
Snow falls into my raven hair,
Frost on each pale lash.
I embrace the chill in these trees,
And give to it my stagnant blood.
Fiction © Copyright Anna Davis
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Rie Sheridan Rose @RieSheridanRose @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_02
To Serve Them All Our Days

by Rie Sheridan Rose

I was but four the first time they led me to the machine. I was awed by the sight of it. Tiny for my age, I had to stand on my toes to peek into the bins. Click, shunk, click…the product falling in thick red lumps to the belt and moving toward the light. 
That didn’t stop them putting me to work. They threw a length of cloth over the lever and taught me to pull it down with all my might to release the product into the machine then ease up on the tension so it would reset.
The stench of the place was awful. The product sliding down the chutes and into the bins released a stink that clung to your clothes and skin no matter how many limes you washed—and water was not that easy to come by. Soon, you stopped noticing.
I was seven when my straining fingers could first reach the lever without the sling—so excited to graduate from being a “baby.” As my arms had lengthened, so did my hours, and I stood before the machine from dawn to dusk. Click, shunk, click… Over and over, all day long.
By the time I was twelve, I began to realize that this would be my life till the end of days. No friends, no family, no fun. There was no use complaining. My family had worked this line for generations.
I was twenty when my father didn’t come home one night after his shift. Mother cried, but said it was the way of the world… When she didn’t come home the next year, I began to suspect.
I was proven wrong about family when the line boss told me I was to be married to Peter down the line. After all, my family had been supplying workers as long as anyone could remember, and I was the last left. I must produce the next generation.
I didn’t hate Peter, if he was a bit sullen. I grew quite fond of him in time. But soon after my daughter was born, he didn’t come home.
Now, my child is old enough to work the line. I’ve had the misery in my lungs. I am all but certain that my time is coming to disappear from Anna’s life as all have done before…and become the product falling into the chute…click, shunk, click…
Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Author Rie Sheridan Rose:

Skellyman

“I have always preferred the supernatural in tales of horror, the knot between life and death. Rie Sheridan Rose’s Skellyman is cool and creepy. Her first horror novel is a chilling read.” — Charlee Jacob – Stoker winner, Best novel, “Dread in the Beast”

Brenda Barnett is trying to cope with raising her four-year-old daughter all alone after an accident tore her family in half. As she and Daisy go for a much-needed treat, the little girl spots a Skellyman on the corner.

This pivotal encounter leads to a wave of mounting terror as Brenda’s life begins to come undone around her. Who is the Skellyman? Why does he keep appearing? Can the sympathetic policeman Brenda turns to stop the madness before it is too late?

And why does Daisy insist that her dead brother is trying to tell them something important?

Available on Amazon!

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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Marge Simon @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_01
Conjur Bride
by Marge Simon

I was a lowly accountant and she was a shy young thing. A head of unruly red curls, and a keen attention to anything I said. She stole my heart! How joyful I was when she agreed to marry me. I brought my bride home to a modest cottage outside of the city. It was in need of paint and plumbing repairs., and there were sugar ants in the kitchen. She appeared delighted, and I was grateful. Unfortunately, I had no time to devote to repairs, and we simply couldn’t afford a full renovation.
Within two weeks, she had repainted it inside and out. The kitchen was spotless and the bathroom sparkled like new.  Her pot roasts and desserts were divine. She never complained about anything. In the space of two years, I rose to be manager of the firm.
One evening I came home a bit early and overheard her chanting. The kitchen smelled of chocolate. On the sideboard lay a tree limb and a bowl of lint. Scattered around were golf ball size round candies. They looked like Ferraro Rocher’s, my favorite. Seeing me, she stopped. “Oh Malcolm, you’re home!”
“What’s this?” I laughed. “Bark chocolate? She dimpled. “It’s just a little something extra for dessert, darling. Come now, let me pour you a nice cup of tea.”
She fussed over me, removing coat and tie, pushing me gently down in a chair. The tea was delicious, but I couldn’t figure where it came from. The only liquid out in the kitchen was a pitcher of water. Anyway, those chocolate balls were to die for.
And I did.
My form changed from human to gargoyle. At her bidding, I hide in the rafters of old churches and frighten the elderly to death. I’m not alone, there’s a whole bunch of us former husbands of hers for company. Fact: if your bride never complains, there’s something scary-wrong with her.
Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Marge Simon:

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The Demeter Diaries
by Marge Simon and‎ Bryan D. Dietrich

‘The Demeter Diaries’ is a record of love and longing and the inevitable horror that arises between the minds of Mina Harker and Vlad Dracula as they court one another in waking dreams. The dialogue, written in both poetry and prose, imagines a psychic connection that develops between the two even before Dracula arrives in England. As Dracula makes his way from Transylvania to Whitby on the doomed ship Demeter, the two would-be lovers transmit their thoughts across the waves and lands that separate them, alternately wooing and terrifying one another with the idea of love eternal and all the dark delicacies necessary to ensure it. Front cover art by Wendy Saber Core, interior illustrations by Luke Spooner.

Available on Amazon!

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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Naching T. Kassa @NachingKassa @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_04

The Soul
by Naching T. Kassa

“It’s too dark,” Marie said. “We’ll never find it now.”
“We’ll find it,” Linsey replied.
Quiet filled the shadowed wood as the two women walked. Slivers of moonlight pierced the canopy of trees above them, sending pools of silver light to the forest floor. They found the tree in one such pool, its dead limbs stretching not to the sky, but to the earth below.
“There it is,” Linsey said.
A breeze whispered among the dead leaves which hung in chains along the branches. Linsey pushed one bough aside and stepped through. Marie followed.
They found the nest nestled among the roots. Linsey’s flashlight beam played over the contents and Marie’s scalp prickled. The light revealed a small skeleton, its tiny human arms wrapped around a grey egg. Horns grew from the little skull, and white teeth filled the mouth.
Linsey pulled a penknife from her pocket and pricked her finger with the point. A small drop of blood welled up from beneath her pale skin.
“What are you doing?” Marie asked.
“We have to offer a sacrifice,” Linsey replied. She handed the knife to Marie. “Come on. It doesn’t hurt that much.”
Linsey knelt and held her finger over the tiny skeleton. Marie followed suit.
Two drops of blood dripped onto the tiny bleached skull. Two boney arms released the egg. 
“The minute we take the egg, he’ll know,” Linsey said. “But, if we get it to the edge of the wood, we’ll be safe. Are you ready?” 
Marie nodded.
Linsey plucked the egg from the nest. She handed it to Marie, who wrapped it in a bandana and placed it in her jacket pocket.
“Don’t let it break,” Linsey said. “Not until he’s ready to eat the contents. And they have to be raw, not cooked.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Linsey,” Marie said.
Footsteps sounded in the wood. Heavy and distant, they approached from the north. Linsey switched the flashlight off. 
“He’s coming!” she whispered. “Run!”
The two women burst from beneath the branches of the dead tree and rushed back down the forest trail. Shadows crowded them as they ran.
Roots and stones rose as obstacles beneath Marie’s feet. She tripped and lay sprawled amongst the detritus which covered the earth. She reached for the egg, fearing the worst, but found it unbroken.
Linsey found her and pulled her to her feet. She shoved her forward as a strange moan filled the air. The footsteps grew closer.
Marie glimpsed a figure over her shoulder. He pounded down the trail behind them, his face revealed in dappled moonlight. The eyes glowed and the teeth gleamed. Clawed hands reached out.
Marie’s legs pumped harder and her feet moved as though wings had grown from her ankles. She broke from the forest, air searing her lungs, Linsey at her heels. 
The monster did not follow.
Panting, they slowed to a walk. Grass, slick with dew, brushed their pantlegs. When they arrived at the low stone wall, the cottage came into view. It stood silhouetted against the soft light of the eastern sky.
“Will you stay?” Marie asked.
Linsey shook her head. 
“But you can’t go back there,” Marie said. “You can’t go back to him. Not after what he’s done…after what you’ve done.”
Linsey smiled. “I’ve got to go back.”
“He’s a demon. Why go back to hell?”
“For the same reason you risked everything to find the egg.”
Marie fell silent. She nodded. “I’ll miss you, my sister.”
Linsey embraced her. “I’ll miss you too. But I’ll be around. Remember now. Nick has to eat it raw. I’d crack it over his mouth while he’s sleeping.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.”
Linsey turned away. Marie watched her sister retrace her steps and return to the forest. When she vanished among the trees, Marie hurried into the cottage.
Nick’s soft snore greeted her as she entered. He lay on the sofa, just as she’d left him a few hours before. She hurried to his side and pulled the bandana from her pocket.
The egg slid into her hand. She tapped it on the nearby coffee table and cracked the perfect shell. A gypsy moth stood among the wreckage. It fluttered and brushed its soft, white wings against her skin. She pinched it between her thumb and forefinger.
Marie grasped Nick’s chin and slid the insect into his mouth.
Fiction © Copyright Naching T. Kassa
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

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More from Naching T. Kassa:

image (10)Kill Switch

As technology takes over more of our lives, what will it mean to be human, and will we fear what we’ve created? What horrors will our technological hubris bring us in the future? Join us as we walk the line between progressive convenience and the nightmares these advancements can breed. From faulty medical nanos and AI gone berserk to ghost-attracting audio-tech and one very ambitious Mow-Bot, we bring you tech horror that will keep you up at night. Will you reach the Kill Switch in time? Edited by Dan Shaurette and Emerian Rich, with authors Chantal Boudreau, Garth von Buchholz, Bill Davidson, Jerry J. Davis, Dana Hammer, Laurel Anne Hill, Naching T. Kassa, Tim O’Neal, H.E. Roulo, Garrett Rowlan, Phillip T. Stephens, and Daphne Strasert.

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kathleen McCluskey @KathleenMcClus4 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_03Beloved Franklin
by Kathleen McCluskey

Margaret knew that the sun was soon to set, her heart raced as she pushed through the crowded streets. She needed to get to Franklin before the sky would show it beautiful celestial orb. Feeling the mist in her bones she knew it was going to be perfect cover for the being that would stalk the outskirts of the park. A large shiver ran down her spine as she looked at the sky turning ever more crimson.
She reached Franklin’s flat and knocked loudly on the door. He had not been himself since the encounter with the being about a month ago. Margaret knew what the consequences would be if Franklin was to succumb to the creature that lurked inside of him. The full moon would bring turmoil for her beloved Franklin and she wanted desperately to help him. Rushing up the stairs she saw Franklin holding the large shackles attached to the wall with iron chains, “put these on me, and quickly.” Margaret hesitated, “please, love. I need these to be on me. The moon has almost risen.” She hurried and placed the bondage onto him.
Franklin could feel the pull of the female creature that had seduced his mind, body and soul. Longingly looking out of the window he could see her shadowed by the mist. She howled to him. Franklin threw his head back and howled. His eyes turned from blue to red and he began to snarl at Margaret. She tried to flee but the being that stood in front of her was no longer her Franklin and it blocked the doorway. Swinging the chains in front of him as he pulled them out of the wall he lunged for Margaret. Margaret screamed. The beast outside howled and what was once Franklin tore Margaret to shreds.
Leaping out of the window and into the arms of his female counterpart Franklin paused and looked back. He howled then nuzzled his mate lovingly. They disappeared into the mist.
Fiction © Copyright Kathleen McCluskey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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More from Kathleen McCluskey:

The Long Fall: Book 1: The Inception of Horror

Lucifer always cunning and intelligent challenges father to a battle of wits. Being the angel of light he casts a judgemental eye upon mankind. He begins a war with his fellow archangels and God. Michael, along with his siblings defend their home and mankind from their deranged brother. Broad swords and hand to hand combat drench heaven in blood. The four apocalyptic steeds are released, each having their own destructive power. Betrayal and lust are at biblical levels. Understand the very creation of evil and the consequenses that transpire in the first of THE LONG FALL series.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Mary Ann Peden-Coviello @MAPedenCoviello @Sotet_Angyal #LoH

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_02

One Perfect Burger
by Mary Ann Peden-Coviello

“All right, you damned souls, listen up.” The demon in charge stood beside a long conveyor belt. Behind the belt loomed massive, vaguely ominous, barbeque grills. At the demon’s back burned the pits of Hell. The demon addressed the terrified group of damned souls, an assortment of suburban dads, who’d been assigned to him for torment. “You men neglected your families while you sought to possess the greenest lawn, the shiniest car, and the showiest mistress in your status-obsessed little communities. Now you’re here, and you’ll be dealing with the Boss. You have one chance to avoid that.” As he said ‘that.’ the demon jerked a claw-tipped thumb over one scaly shoulder toward the flames behind him. “Grill the perfect hamburger for the Boss and win a Get Out of Hell pass. Fail, and the Hell pits await. And there’s only one pass. First perfect burger wins.”
The men stampeded to the grills, elbowing, clawing, and punching. Shouts and curses rang out as they tried to light the grills, burning their fingers. Demons prowled up and down the line and dragged away those who burned themselves (“Nah, you’ve lost. Might as well get used to the sizzle early. Haw haw haw.”) or flipped their burgers onto the cobbles that ran beneath their feet (“Tough luck, sinner. The Boss won’t eat that.”) The damned screamed as demons flung them over the edge and into the depths of Hell.
When a few men succeeded in grilling their burgers, the head demon snapped his fingers, and the conveyor belt jerked into motion. Cries of dismay filled the air along with demonic laughter as the first grills and cooks tumbled into the fiery pits.
“Cook faster! Time’s running out – so to speak.” The demon bent double at his own joke, snorting with laughter. He turned to an underling. “The Boss was right. Giving them hope and then snatching it away is a fine torment.” He had to shout to be heard over the shrieks of the last of the damned as they fell, some clinging to the hot grills to the final second in their doomed attempts to grill a burger – any burger—and save themselves.
Fiction © Copyright Mary Ann Peden-Coviello
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Mary Ann Peden-Coviello:

maryannpedencoviello_frightmareFright Mare-Women Write Horror
Short Story: One Hour Before the Dark

Women write horror and have written it since before Mary Shelley wrote FRANKENSTEIN. This anthology is to highlight the fact women write great horror and to kill the fallacy that they aren’t in some way up to standard. They are. Read here stories by Elizabeth Massie, Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Lucy Taylor, and a plethora of other great writers as they work on your nerves, get inside your head, and bang out some of the scariest tales written today. I’m proud to present these women for your consideration, as Rod Serling might say, as I ask you to step into FRIGHT MARE. Lock the door and windows, put on a light, and remember, it’s not real. It’s not real. Midnight awaits, monsters scheme to take you away, the strange and weird wait in the shadows, but it’s not real. Is it?

Edited by Billie Sue Mosiman, the author who brought you the SINISTER-TALES OF DREAD collections and her latest suspense novel, THE GREY MATTER.

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Ela Lourenco @ElaLourenco @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_01Last Chance
by Ela Lourenco

Steam rises in billowing verdant hues
Potion poured onto the source,
The origin, the seed
The very last remaining seed on the planet.
Wars have been fought
Friends betrayed, brothers killing brothers
All for this one seed
This one chance
Magic is no more
Killed by the technomorphs
Diseased by the sunless ashen skies
All that remains is this last half rotten seed
An ember of hope
To save or doom us all
Fiction © Copyright Ela Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Ela Lourenco:

awakeningDragon Born: Book Three
Awakening

The Royal tournament, the Karnac, is fully underway. But there is deception and betrayal at every turn. Unseen dark forces are at play, both within the school grounds and out with. Even the Gods are unable to help when a new threat looms over them all.The very existence of Azmantium depends on Lara fully becoming the Child of Fire and casting aside the Shadows lurking in every corner of her beloved planet.Can she overcome the challenges that await? Will the Shadows cover the world in darkness? Only Lara and her friends can change the fate of Azmantium.

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Elaine Pascale @DocLaney @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_04Be Pretty
by Elaine Pascale

“Be pretty,” my mother had whispered over the open drawer that had served as my crib.
“Be pretty,” she had nestled an avocado seed into my bedding, which was several t-shirts stitched together. One may have belonged to my father, one belonged to my mother’s long-term lover, and one belonged to her cousin who had died young.
“Be pretty,” she told me on my sixth birthday as I gorged myself on fluffy white cake stuffed with rose petals.
She had thought that being pretty would give me the upper hand in relationships.
After three failed marriages and only enough possessions to fill a small box, I was finished with pretty.
I had no time or interest in avocado seeds or rose petals.
Pretty had not brought me love; I would fabricate my own love. 
I wanted to create a monstrosity as beastly as I felt inside. I thought of the minotaur: a sweaty, odorous creature, horrifying to behold. I thought of harpies with sharp talons as dastardly as their faces. I conjured these images as I said my spells.
“Be hideous,” I whispered over my concoction.
Peering into my woven nest, I was surprised to find that when I looked at the product of my labor, I thought it was pretty. That was the curse of motherhood. 
My creature whimpered and cried. Its tiny, skeletal hands reached for something to hold, for something to caress. 
The avocado seed was the perfect size to serve as a crib accompaniment. 
My creature instinctively knew what to do. It nuzzled the seed, comforting itself. 
“Be hideous,” I whispered over the nest before leaving to find it something to eat.
Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of  Pixabay.com

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More from Elaine Pascale:

The Blood Lights

They victimize all…

Jezzie Mitchell is in anguish; with her brother’s murder still on her mind, she’s noticed strange behavior among the girls in the residential treatment center where she works. Is there a connection between the contagion on Cape Cod and the deadly Bahamas vacation that changed her life?

Jezzie reaches out to former lover Lou Collins, a scholar who has chased proof of the lights for decades. Will he be able to solve the mystery of the lights in time?

Intensely competitive, reporter Bridgette Collins knows the lights are a way to secure fame in her career. And while it’ll put the final nail into the coffin of her ex-husband’s career, she vows to know the secrets of the lights. Even if it means unleashing a world-wide epidemic…

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author A.F. Stewart @scribe77 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_03
Refuge

by A.F. Stewart

The park woodland glowed in soft orange light as the street lamps flickered on automatically. The low-lying fog diffused in eerie colour and pinpoints of radiance, giving the appearance of eyes in the night.

The Vestige took comfort in the scene; it reminded them of home. It also made it easier to see the Hunters and flee their cruel weapons or even fight back. Too many of the Vestige had fallen before they found this place; too many left behind to be dismembered by the Hunters. Not anymore. Here they had found a certain amount of safety.

Yet unease persisted in their society. Why did the Hunters hate them so? Why did they wish their annihilation? The Vestige had no answers, only speculation. Perhaps the Hunters feared what was different.


Perhaps they believed the dead should remain buried.

Fiction © Copyright A.F. Stewart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

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More from A.F. Stewart:

HellsEmpire_CoverHell’s Empire: Tales of the Incursion

A unique anthology of two thrones at war as the forces of Hell assault an unsuspecting Victorian Britain.The cry went out to theologians and engineers, to artificers and antiquarians, to every name which could be named. By telegraph where lines were still intact, and by volunteer riders where they were not; smuggled along the coast in fishing smacks, semaphored from hill-tops. It came without royal sanction, issued jointly by the Lords of the Admiralty and Marquess Lansdowne, the new Secretary of State for War:”In God’s name, help us. We are losing.”

Available on Amazon!

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