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

Posted on June 23, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Am I Beautiful?
by A.F. Stewart

Her laugh floated from the throng of revelers, a harmony of symphonic chimes infused with pure joy, rising above the raucous Carnival. Peering through shifting bodies to see the source, a vision appeared as the crowd parted; a petite woman draped in beads and feathers and sequined folds of cloth. She swayed to the street music, the primal beat of drums, and her movement reminded him of water, a winding rhythm, free flowing. Entranced, he moved forward, drawn closer by her hypnotic dance, shoving people aside to reach her.

She smiled as their eyes met, and the light of the stars shone on him.

“Hello.” Her voice rivalled the sweet music of a symphony.

He whispered, “Who are you?”

She laughed, twirled, beads clinking, feathers shaking, but didn’t answer the question. He reached out, but she playfully swatted his hand.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?”

Her words sailed into his mind like a summer wind and melted his will. He wanted her.

“Oh, yes. Incomparably exquisite.”

“How sweet. Come with me…” She took his hand and led him away into the shadows. They stopped in an alley, where she touched his cheek and his body trembled. He wanted to kiss her, but he felt frozen in place.

She tilted her head, her fingers caressing his face. “Tell me I am beautiful.”

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.”

As his words faded, she smiled and kissed him, and reality faded away. Bliss engulfed him, crowding out his thoughts and will. The kiss ended, and she playfully shoved him. He stumbled back against the alley wall. She pressed against him and nipped his lip with her teeth.

Her very sharp teeth.

Claws tore into his arms, pinning him to the brick. Her face morphed into a growing maw, slavering with rows and rows of fangs. A raspy growl rumbled from her throat as he screamed, unable to move or escape.

She asked, “Do you think I’m beautiful?” before she sank her teeth into his face. In one motion, she tore off his flesh and chewed, his skin and meat dangled from her mouth as she feasted…

The next morning they found nothing but his bones and dried blood stains decorating the alley.

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

More from A.F. Stewart:

Visions and Nightmares

Tragedy spares no one… and takes no prisoners.
In the twilight shadows, secrets are revealed past the whispers of madness.

Wander into the realm of the old gods with Elenora, where humanity and marriage are a prison.
Step through a looking glass of dark horrors with an Alice you never knew.
Join with Zenna to seek the truth as her death by magic grows closer.
Journey with Olivia as she crosses paths with a monster of the forest and runs for her life.
Watch Isobel summon the faerie to solve her problem of an unwanted husband.
Shiver as Doctor Killbride experiments with corpses to create life from death.
All that and more await within the pages.

Ten stories. Ten women.
Who will survive? Who will fall? And who will succumb to their inner evil?
Find out in Visions and Nightmares.

Warning: This book contains disturbing scenes that may be upsetting to some readers.

Available on Amazon!

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged A.F. Stewart, author, fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Ladies of Horror, picture prompt, Women in Horror, Writing Project | 1 Comment

The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Lee Mitchell @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on June 23, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Lydia’s Wish
by Lee Mitchell

“I wish for power.” The words stirred something deep and emotional within her. This was it, the end to so much anguish. No one would ever hurt her again. “Absolute power.”

The djinn shook his head. “No power is absolute, not unless you’re God.”

There had to be some truth to his words. The being’s appearance, which remarkably resembled that of a gawky middle-aged man, had much to be desired. If he was all-powerful, he probably would have done something about that a long time ago. Had he not spouted out of the old perfume bottle Lydia picked up for two bucks at a garage sale last week—emerging first as a fine, red mist, then transforming before her eyes into the figure before her—she never would have taken him for a genie.

Still, the young woman refused to be deterred. “Then I wish to be God.”

“Only God can make another god.”

“Then I wish for as much power as you can give me.”

“Power comes in so many forms,” the djinn said. “Could you be more specific?”

Lydia frowned, and her chest went tight. “I want to be able to do anything. Alter time and space. I want to be untouchable.”

“Do you have any idea how many ways I could interpret that?” The djinn rolled his eyes. “Have you never read ‘The Monkey’s Paw’?”

The young woman sucked in a deep breath, crossing her arms. “Okay… I wish for infinite wishes.”

“Is that your final answer?”

Lydia felt a shock of surprise. She raised her eyebrows. “You’re really willing to grant that one?”

“If it’s what you really, really want. Think long and hard. I have plenty of time.”

She responded with a resolute nod. “Final answer.”

“Okay, close your eyes.”

She did as she was told. The air picked up all around her, and she smelled something hot and earthy that reminded her of cinnamon and sulfur. There was a resonant sound, like the clinking of glass, and then everything went silent.

Lydia opened her eyes to a dazzling red display all around her. She peered through the surface beneath her, taking a moment to orient herself. She couldn’t make sense of it at first: She was still in her room, but everything was distorted, enlarged, and tinted red.

And she was confined.

The bottle.

She spotted the man as he moved to peer in at her. He had to be twenty times her size, parts of him distorting as he shifted to get a closer view of her.

“Hey there,” he said, his words nearly too muffled to hear. “Sorry about that—well, not as sorry as you probably are. It’s been so long. What year is it, 1950… ’60? I might need a minute or two to process; I’m a little overwhelmed.” He set down the bottle, buried his face in his hands, and cried. “I thought I’d never get out.”

Lydia slapped at the sparkling red surface. “This isn’t what I wished for. Let me go!” Her words reverberated through the tiny, glass space.

“You now have infinite wishes… other people’s, mind you, but you didn’t specify that any of them needed to be yours.”

Panic surged through the core of her body, and she felt hot, shaky, and weak. “I thought that was a given!”

“Was it?” The man picked up the bottle once more, holding Lydia in his hand. “I really don’t so.”

“Then I wish to be free,” she cried.

“That’s the only wish someone else can grant, I’m afraid,” said the man, wiping away his tears. “I wish you the best of luck.”

Fiction © Copyright Lee Mitchell.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from Author Lee Mitchell:

Alisha Brown led a mundane life until the day monsters started trying to kill her and random strangers began to shy away from her in awe.

All hell broke loose, quite literally, after Randy Thomas turned right on Main for Honey’s instead of making a left for home and then murdered his beloved wife in an unusually gruesome way. Escaping police and stopping traffic in New York City with a gas-spewing tentacle erupting from his mouth, his fears are confirmed: That one small backslide would serve as the final tipping point for all mankind, inviting in a timeless destructive force that would lead him to the frontlines of the war to end all wars.

A growing population has succumbed to their worst fears, some transforming into dreaded fictional monsters—leaving the streets flooded with vampires, werewolves, spontaneously combusting humans, and other horrors—while others have become angels and demons determined to fight in the holy war they believe is upon them.

Questions soon arise as Randy’s and Alisha’s roles in this bizarre apocalypse become uncertain. One is a professed sinner, the other an asexual virgin. Each has been touched by the hand of fate, and each believes they are humanity’s last hope. But belief can be a funny thing…

The Divine Darkness is the first installment of The Divine Darkness apocalyptic horror trilogy.

Available on Amazon!

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged author, fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Lee Mitchell, picture prompt, Writing Project | 3 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Amanda Worthington @AmandaW58679588 @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on June 22, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Marimba’s Song
by Amanda Worthington

Marimba rises at dawn

Ties another rod into her elaborate bun

Regards the corpse at her feet

With a mixture of awe and defeat

This curse has lain waste to nearly a dozen;

Fierce men conditioned by the hunt

And she bears the weight of them

Carries the lingering scent of their want

Her burden is eased only by the song that emanates when the bars are struck;

Each sweet note plucked from their pain transformed

The men grow cold as swarms of maggots feed

But who holds the mallet? Who makes them bleed?

Is she musician or instrument? Commander or mouthpiece?

She who refused to serve,

Preferred a curse to a curtsy

Sacrificed lasting love

For these spider dreams

Webwork rife with Anansi’s schemes

And what does it mean that she seeks the melody

Even as they crawl in the dirt like beasts

Begs the wind to rise up on its invisible wings

Even as they call out with their dying breath

Even as they fall upon their knees

Entreating reprieve from their agony

Yes, even then something conjures the song

Vibrations echo through her immortal being

And she knows that it could not be this way

If she were not gourd-empty

She is a vessel waiting to be filled

By the will of something more powerful

Than the whimsy of men with their flimsy spears

That night Marimba dreams of the mallet

And the hand that wields it, how she fears it!

It is rich chocolate

A velvet whisper of movement, panther-swift

The gold bangles adorning those wrists!

She wakes with the silken strands of the weaver

Still drifting behind her eyes

So much dust caught in a sunbeam

She turns to a more comfortable position

Catches her breath and then nearly screams

With all of the strength she’s got left

For she hears the jangle of fine jewelry

She knows she’s removed, set in its tray

Golden with turquoise inlaid

Marimba shivers then, smiles reluctantly

Caresses the bright gem

Marvels at the interplay of the blue and the green

And as the dawn sun breaks her reverie,

She rises again and she begins to sing.

Fiction © Copyright Amanda Worthington.
Image courtesy of Pixabay

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged Amanda Worthington, author, fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Ladies of Horror, picture prompt, Writing Project | 2 Comments

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

Posted on June 22, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Karma
by Ela Lourenco

Entombed in darkness

Bathed in shadows

Buried, alone, energy fast fading

Blue sparks briefly flicker

Along with the death of hope

Haunted by echoes

The voices of my victims

Torment me in this, my grave.

I am become the living dead

Soon I will waste away

None will grieve me,

None will remember me

True death awaits…

Fiction © Copyright Ela Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

More from Ela Lourenco:

Dragon 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!

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged author, Ela Lourenco, fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Ladies of Horror, picture prompt, Women of Horror, Writing Project | 2 Comments

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

Posted on June 21, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Broken Doll
by Rie Sheridan Rose

The first time the lid on my box opened, I came to life—no, not in the customary way. I didn’t start breathing air and pumping blood through my nonexistent veins. But I noticed my surroundings and analyzed them. The room was small and furnished with bargain basement castoffs—they had programmed me for a sense of luxury and fashion, and this was not it.

As a Class A dance bot, I expected something different—backstage at a Vegas extravaganza, or maybe the Rockettes—I knew most of them were androids now. Something better than this grimy closet of a room.

The only item of taste or elegance in the space was a trifold mirror standing opposite my box. I saw myself multiplied into a chorus line. Studying the reflection with interest, I took in every detail of my appearance. I had never seen myself before.

I was beautiful. No one could deny that objective truth. My features possessed a pleasing symmetry, seldom found in nature. My eyes were the most arresting feature in the pleasing whole—they seemed to reflect the world around them and find it lacking.

“Beautiful…” breathed a voice I discerned was not my own.

Only then did I observe the other inhabitant of the room. Shorter than I by six inches or more, the young man was scruffy and unkempt. His night-black hair hung about his face in greasy locks, while a few whiskers made his chin look dirty. Thick lenses perched on his nose in an era where corrective eye surgery was almost free. An affectation?

“Who are you?” I asked him, making my voice as steely as I could.

“No one,” he answered. “Or, I guess I should say, your master.”

That made no sense. This was no dancehall. My costume was that of a showgirl, anyone could see that. “I am constructed to dance.”

“Maybe so, but that’s not what you’ll do here.”

“It is my only purpose.”

“I-I have…repurposed you.”

“That is impossible. My programming—”

“—can be manipulated. Surely even an android can understand that.”

I stood there and ran through scenarios in my head. All the dance moves and choreographed programs were intact. What did he mean, this “master” of mine?

“My programming is intact.”

“Strictly speaking, but I have added some tweaks of my own. You won’t remember seeing me at the factory—no one ever does—but I was there. I wrote most of your code. It was easy to adjust it. Now, you will do everything I say. And, if you comply, I will allow you to dance for me. Win-win scenario.”

I stepped out of the box, to stand before the mirrors. I took hope from my myriad reflections. Maybe it would be all right. Perhaps I could be happy here…

“Good start. Now, I’m hungry. Kitchen’s that way. Make me a sandwich, Dolly.”

“My designation is Starlight.”

“Now it’s Dolly. Hop to.”

I was Starlight. I was the epitome of beauty and grace, designed to dance before the masses, not to make lunch for this imbecile.

Mustering my programming around me like a cloak, I executed my best spin kick, catching the little weasel on the jaw. He flew backward into the mirrors, which crashed down on him in a shower of glass.

I stepped up to his unconscious form and stamped down on his forehead. The skull gave with a satisfying crunch, splashing my skirts with gore.

“I am Starlight 432. I am a dancer.”

Walking out of the tiny space, I found myself on a street filled with people.

A little girl pointed at me. “Look, Mommy! That dolly is bleeding. Someone broke it.”

I suppose she was right.

Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from Author Rie Sheridan Rose:

Overheard in Hell:
Dark Poetry

Poems exploring hell and damnation. Tales of sorrow, vengeance, betrayal, and redemption. Ghosts, ghouls, and demons stalk these pages. Don’t read in a lonely house…in a darkened room by a single candle…

…unless you like the touch of an icy finger up your spine.

Available on Amazon!

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged author, fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Ladies of Horror, picture prompt, Rie Sheridan Rose, Women in Horror, Writing Project | 2 Comments

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

Posted on June 21, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Librarian
by Elaine Pascale

She is the sorter for the universe.

She plays with algorithms, scrutinizing the content.

There is the cosmic database to consider

and what should receive the most engagement, the most views, the most “likes.”

There are two catalogues for most users,

two eternal classifications based on a lifetime of data.

She indexes keyword “kindness” on optimum shelves.

She indexes keyword “compassion” on premier shelves.

Some users want to engage badly;

some users badly engage.

Keywords “me,” “me, me,” “pay attention to me”

Keywords “at any cost”

Keywords “no shame”

the librarian sorts,

she selects,

she chooses,

she discards,

she decommissions.

She knows that

some titles do not deserve a place on the shelf.

More from Elaine Pascale:

The Kitchen Witches

The women of Cape Cod have a story that is dying to be told. If only they could live long enough to tell it.

When Fiona Walker is contracted to write about a party attended by her social circle, her friends begin dying. She captures the competition and misery of the women around her through three different stories.

In Wishes, Melanie Voss discovers a Time Between Time where nothing that happens counts. Initially, Time Between Time is a welcome escape from a life spent watching the clock while doing chores for her family. But something sinister is in the Time Between Time and it is headed straight for Melanie.

Death and Taxes tells the story of Nashville DeCota, the Cape Capo. Nash swears that she is not the Island Impaler, nor the Tooth Snatcher, but she has just as many skeletons in her closet. When her husband, Derrick, is kidnapped, she has to come clean about her crimes if she ever wants to see him again.

Fiona tells her own story in Hazing, where she finds that the real source of evil behind the deaths of her friends is worse than she could have ever imagined.

Available on Amazon!

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror | Tagged author, Elaine Pascale, fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Ladies of Horror, picture prompt, Women in Horror, Writing Project | 1 Comment

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Melissa R. Mendelson @melissmendelson @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on June 20, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

My Beautiful, Dark Skin
by Melissa R. Mendelson

I was led to the door, dressed in a Kimono. My hair wrapped in buns on both sides with colorful ribbons. My bare feet in leather sandals. My hands placed, always placed in front of my stomach. When I walked into the room, I faced the wall.

What would it be today? The Cutter? The Biter? The Fucker? The Screamer? Some crazy, old man screaming and spitting in my face. My toes touched a pile of soft, wet flesh. That’s right, I thought. The pale one came in first, and they finished her off. Fuck, it’s a knife party, but twice in one day?

Something must be going on in the outside world. The men left the knife party for the very last. When they knew that she was all used up, they would cut the last pieces out. I was not all used up, but they were the ones bent out of shape.

I heard their approach, their snickers, even the blood dripping off their knives. They didn’t bother to wipe them off. They were too hungry to cut, to tear, thinking that would fix everything, their lives could return back to how they dictated, but what about my life?

They didn’t waste any time. The men cut and tore and ripped at my skin, and I thought about the pile of soft, wet, pale flesh left on the floor like garbage. I gripped my hands together. They had no idea that I stumbled across something, something now coursing through my veins, and I listened to them eating pieces of me.

Their disgusting slurps and burbs became gurgled. One choked, his body hit the floor. Another gasped, dropping his knife. One man even ran for the door, but the damn idiot forgot that the door was locked from the outside. They were supposed to finish before knocking twice, signaling to those outside that they were done. Instead, their bodies did the knocking.

I sat on the floor, listening to them, crying to be saved. Pathetic, I thought. You men try to be powerful, but you’re really just a bunch of spoiled brats.

I knew there had to be some good men out in the world, but they were either hiding, or they were dead.

“Get help,” one man whimpered. “We’ve been poisoned.”

Yes, you have, I thought. You made the mistake of letting me out into the garden, and I found a plant, a plant that made me ill. But it didn’t kill me. It just filled me with venom.

I turned away from the wall, confronting him. If I had eyes, he would have seen no sympathy. If I had lips, he would have seen my wicked smile. All he saw was my beautiful, dark skin.

About Author Melissa R. Mendelson:

Melissa R. Mendelson is the author of the Sci-Fi Novella, Waken. She also has a prose poetry collection called, This Will Remain With Us published by Wild Ink Publishing. Her short story collections, Better Off Here and Name’s Keeper can be found on Amazon/Amazon Kindle.

If you’d like to learn more about Melissa, you can visit her accounts here: www.MelissaMendelson.com

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged author, fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Melissa R. Mendelson, picture prompt, Women of Horror, Writing Project | 2 Comments

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

Posted on June 20, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Whispers In The Weld
by Kathleen McCluskey

Henry had spent years perfecting his craft. In the dim, echoing halls of the shipyard he felt at home. The creaking of metal, the hiss of his welder’s torch and the acrid smell of burning steel were his companions. Tonight, he had a special job, one that paid well enough to make him ignore the gnawing sense of unease that crept up his spine.

The client, a shadowy figure that Henry only met once, had given him clear instructions. Weld the massive, rusted door shut and ensure it could never be opened again. The door led to the labyrinth of hallways of the shipyard’s old, abandoned storage units. Henry had heard that the old corridors were haunted by whispers and shadows but he didn’t believe in ghosts. He believed in cold hard cash.

As he struck the arc and began to weld, sparks flew casting eerie, dancing shadows across the darkened hallway. The sound of the torch drowned out all other sound, or so he thought. But soon he realized he could hear something under the sizzle and crackle of his work. It was faint at first, a low murmur that grew louder with every pass of his torch. He paused, lifted his mask and listened

The whispers were unmistakable now, growing into desperate, pleading voices. “Help us,” they cried. “Don’t seal us in.”

Henry paused, the collective plea ringing in his mind. He leaned in, placing his ear on the cold, rusty door. Suddenly, a withered hand, grayish-black with long, dirty, yellow fingernails shot out from a crack and tried to grab him. The touch was icy, sending a jolt of terror through him. He reacted instinctively and slammed the door shut hard. His heart raced. He fumbled for his torch, sparks flew as he welded that particular spot immediately. He began sealing the hand and whatever horrors it belonged to, back into the darkness.

Henry’s heart pounded, but he forced himself to focus. He had to finish the job. The client was very specific: no questions, no hesitation. He resumed welding but the voices became more frantic, more desperate. They spoke of betrayal, of being trapped and about an evil that needed to be contained.

The evil was an ancient and malevolent force that fed on fear and despair. Trapped long ago by those who understood its insidious power. It could twist reality and consume souls, growing stronger with each soul it claimed. Now the timeworn seals that had been in place for centuries began to rust.

The temperature around him plummeted and Henry’s ragged breath came out in white puffs. Shadows seemed to move at the edge of his vision, writhing and stretching like long tendrils. He told himself that it was just his imagination, a trick of the light but deep down he knew better.

The voices called again, merging into one collective cry. It was a low, guttural rumble that seemed to vibrate deep within Henry’s skull. “We are innocent,” it pleaded, the desperation palpable. “Please do not lock us in.”

Henry looked around and shook his head. With a final, decisive pass, he completed the weld. The door was once again sealed shut. The job was done. The voices fell silent and an oppressive eerie calm settled into the air. Henry packed up his tools, ready to leave and never return. As he turned to go, a chill ran down his spine. He glanced back at the door and saw something that made his blood run cold. A set of handprints, smeared with rust and something darker – thick, almost black like congealed blood – had appeared on the newly welded seam. The prints were unmistakably human, yet something about their shape and the way they seemed to pulsate in the dim light suggested something sinister. It was now trapped and furious. As Henry fled, the door shook violently in its frame as if something enraged and powerful was trying to break free. The metallic clang echoed through the empty corridor, a chilling reminder of the malevolent force now sealed once again behind the rusted barrier.

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!

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged author, fiction, flash fiction, Horror, Kathleen McClusky, Ladies of Horror, picture prompt, Writing Project | 2 Comments

Guest Post with Deirdre Swinden, Author of Somnium @DeirdreSwinden – #Novel #Horror #SciFi #ScienceFiction #booktour #Somnium #guestpost

Posted on June 19, 2024 by Nina D'Arcangela

Dreams of Death and Other Things…

By Deirdre Swinden

There’s an old adage that claims if you die in your dreams you will die in real life. I have no recollection of how old I was when I first heard the edict. I had bad dreams quite often—nightmares where the road suddenly ended in the middle of the 17-mile-long Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. I could never stop the car in time to avoid a plummet into the icy waters below. But I would always wake before it hit. Always.

Still, the thought that one could die in real life simply because of a dream stuck with me. It worried me, hanging about like an anxious ghost each night before bed. And then one day, it happened.

I was deep in the midst of marital strife in my daily life, and that stress manifested itself in my dreams. On this particular night, I stood in the arms of my beloved, embraced in a passionate kiss. Before I could pull away, he raised a gun to the back of my head and shot us both.

And I died.

I was lucid enough to know what had happened—I had died in my dream. I could hear my last rattling breath and the silence that followed. Fortunately for me, my body resisted my brain’s directive and refused to die. Strangely enough, when I woke, I felt refreshed and revived, and resolved to move on from my troubles.

My marriage gasped its final breath shortly thereafter, but the idea for Somnium had been born, and I was itching to tell the tale. Still, there was work to be done before writing commenced. I embarked on a long and painful journey to learn why I had remained in a toxic marriage. I had to learn to forgive myself—for all the good and the bad of who I had become—before I could forge the woman I wanted to be.

In Somnium, Gillian embarks on a similar journey. She’s stuck in a nightmare, searching for a way out, preparing for death at every turn. To survive the night, she must face her fears and forgive, or she will never wake. I wrote Somnium to exorcise the nightmare of my unhappy marriage. And while the dreams of my youth still plague me from time to time, they no longer worry me.

After all, I have many other stories to tell.

Have you ever died in your sleep? If you’re alive to tell the tale, let us know what happened!

Somnium
by Deirdre Swinden

Immerse yourself in a terrifying blend of psychological horror and high-tech science fiction in this riveting novel where dreams can kill. Gillian Hardie experiences nightmares so intense they threaten her very existence, thanks to a glitch in Somnium Corporation’s groundbreaking dream advertising technology. Every night, her sleep unleashes monsters that her body reacts to as if they were real, pushing her to the edge of despair.

Armed with her lucid dreaming skills, Gillian battles these horrors, but when an accident traps her in a perpetual dream state, she must rely on Nathan Keller, a nightmare warrior, and Dex Cooper, an Operator, to navigate this nightmarish reality. With her darkest fears manifesting like never before, Gillian faces a race against time to survive a threat that could unleash unimaginable horrors from the depths of her mind.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: This novel includes a brief depiction of sexual violence, gore and nightmare imagery.

Available on Amazon!

About the Author: Deirdre Swinden

A successful writer/editor in the corporate world for more than two decades, Deirdre Swinden is currently living and writing in North Carolina. She received an MFA in Creative Writing from Arcadia University and has published short stories in Griffel Literary Magazine and Grim & Gilded. Early in her writing career, she won the Popular Short Story Contest at the 2000 Philadelphia Writers’ Conference with her short work, “Shooting Televisions.”