*ruffles feathers* its cold out here on this stupid branch in this tree Freezing, watching the weeping old man sitting in his saggy old chair by the big bay window yank his only thin brown blanket tight around his frail shoulders and shake *blink and shudder* without feathers i would freeze too but he has... Continue Reading →
Truly, I wasn't sure he was real at first. Those wide guileless eyes, so full of truth; oozing sweetness and youthful innocence. Full to the brim with unfulfilled potential that it makes me ill. That alone is suspect. The confused cocked head, much like a disoriented puppy married with a glazed gaze that is meant... Continue Reading →
These are the truth tools; these which I use to torture myself. The sharpening stone must be wet and the tools sharp to hit home. I think I'm insane, or at the least, not so far from that ledgefall into hell or beyond. Thanks be Gods. No emotion, but that needling hot nothingness and a... Continue Reading →
Sirens Call Publications is pleased to announce a new open submission for a horror anthology tentatively titled
First Hand Accounts
What does horror look like through the eyes of the witness? Whether the pivotal event is psychological or physical, we want it to impact us, to affect us; to make us never want to see it come to fruition.
For this anthology, we’re looking for stories of first hand accounts of horrific acts, unimaginable horrors, and terrifying moments. Take us into your worse nightmare and make us feel your fear, your pain, your frustration; show us what it looks like through your eyes. The setting is yours to choose, just make sure you chronicle what’s going down when the proverbial shit hits the fan and the world becomes a much uglier place to exist in!
Tales for this anthology must be written in the first person perspective. Feel free…
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It's 2 am and I'm awake, again, repeating that same tired ass litany of silent cusses and pleading whines - the small still voice soothes and whispers everything is copacetic its all irie BabyGirl - but it isn't. little is... the loudest thing in my world is my mind and while the world sleeps I plod and... Continue Reading →
Hey!!! 🖕🏻 FUCK YOU.🖕🏻 😊 Thanks for playing!! 😊 Aww are we stunned? Hurt? Wonder why? Does it matter? Fun, isn’t it. Feels good huh. Now you know. How about.... 👉🏻 Think 👈🏻 👉🏻 Before 👈🏻 👉🏻 You 👈🏻 👉🏻 Open 👈🏻 👉🏻 Your 👈🏻 👉🏻 Ever 👈🏻 👉🏻 Flapping 👈🏻 👍🏻 Yapper 👍🏻 Believe... Continue Reading →
Does silence disturb the delicate balance? The hard won solace of sheep mentality, lost Get used to it... Silence is for the dead, or the nearly so Don't like it? Learn to scream, then - here *reveals axe* This may help...
My name is Triss Pettigrew, and I am sixteen years old. I live in a remote Village south of nowhere, and close enough to the underworld that the clear pools closest to the mountains are as hot as boiled water. It is picturesque and to the eye, perfect. I couldn't find anything as wrong about... Continue Reading →
Her name is Byrne. I met her tonight. She is beautiful, that angel with the light brown hair, laying there in repose. Peaceful, she sleeps and I can't help but stare at the stray curl that cuddles against her cheekbone. I dare not brush it away and spoil the perfection. Enveloped in blue - the... Continue Reading →
Everyone is full of advice Yet few even know about my reality Even fewer care. It ain't easy. Life rarely is and I know it. But dammit, *deep breathe* Between the squabbling and the meltdowns and the whining and the crying and the dying and that's not even the kids... Responsibility calls and I come... Continue Reading →
It’s all that she can think about; the memories of that night after the carnival are redolent, like spider webs and herb. Nothing had tasted so good His name was Eliott White and he won her a black unicorn that she promptly christened Stabbty and kissed him soundly in thanks. He was giddy afterwards, when... Continue Reading →
Who left the bag of idiots open? Who is gong to take care of the infestation? *Snickering wildly* An idiot infestation I'm surrounded by them And there are no inoculations It could just be my magnetic personality or I'm the eye of the fucking storm *tornado noises* Perhaps I've accomplished What took losing a body... Continue Reading →
Sirens Call Publications is pleased to announce a new open submission for a horror anthology titled Alone With Your Fear!
For this call, we’re looking for stories that pit the main character against their own greatest fear. It seems deceptively simple, but be warned – it isn’t. We want the fear to be the overarching theme, so make sure your story contains a hefty dose – if we don’t feel it, the readers won’t either.
Perhaps the best place to write this tale is Alone with Your Fear…
Deadline: September 1, 2016
Word Count: 4,000 – 8,000 words
All submissions MUST be submitted to: Submissions@SirensCallPublications.com
Reading & Evaluation Period: Two to three months after close of the deadline
NO REPRINTS WILL…
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Heroes need not apply. I grew tired of waiting for the fruition of folly Whilst I educated myself on promises and became my own Heroine The only strength I need, I have covered I've managed thus far on my own Thanks all the same. So maybe I'm scratched and dented Gorilla glued back to a... Continue Reading →
Sirens Call Publications is pleased to announce the open call for the 27th issue of The Sirens Call…
For this issue, we’re looking for your best horror stories falling under the theme of
Go psychological or slasher, creature or paranormal – as long as it falls under the umbrella of horror, we’re open to it. Make your tales creepy, kitschy, funny, romantic, or sci-fi – get creative and send us the kind of skin-crawling, bone-rattling story you’d want to read.
Your only limiting factors are your own imagination and the word count!
Submission Deadline: June 1, 2016
Short story word count: 1,000 – 2,500
Flash fiction word count: 300 – 1,000
Poem length: minimum 10 lines; maximum 50 lines (with a limit of five poems per author)
Drabbles: 100 words (limit of five submitted per author)
Reprints are acceptable as long as you currently…
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I'm pretty sure that I'm fundamentally broken. It's the only real reason I can even think of to explain why I'm so impossible to love. Why it's so difficult to find the same respect in speaking to me as others receive. Maybe I expect too much, and that's why. Or maybe I'm too thin now. Or... Continue Reading →
Thank you Nina for this wonderful article ❤️ #WiHM7
I am a Canadian based writer who resides in Calgary, Alberta and blessed with two challenging boys. A Warrior Mom of Sam, aged 13 and DaveyB, aged 9, wife, administrator with The Twisted Path Group, writer with Visionary Press Collaborative, supporter of Independant Film and Publications, and a horror junkie with a taste for words, and bloodsauce.
I am proud to be in The Burbs, a radio serial by Liane Moonraven as the friendly, coffee loving Maria Sanchez. Listen on Spreaker Thursdays at 10 pm EST.
I can also be seen in the slasher film The Orphan Killer 2, Bound x Blood written and directed by Matt Farnsworth, available to rent on Vimeo VOD.
You can find Melanie and her work in the following places:
Author Page on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Melanie-McCurdie/e/B016C68GYC
Personal Blog: https://malevolantmajesty.wordpress.com/
The Twisted Path Website: http://thetwistedpathgroup.com/
Guest Post by Melanie
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Blue sky is a lie Looks like Spring from my window The sun shiny day bright says summertime clothing seems apropos Until I step from the doorway Into the icy embrace of the trickster Jack Frost, that cagey bastard breathes snowflakes in my eyes While his fingers tighten my nipples His laughter ruffles my curls,... Continue Reading →
Do you think me pretentious Or just inane because I refuse to kneel After a lifetime on my knees Praying to a nonexistent God Or bowed to the will of another I've done my time in Hell Thank you for not shoving your belief Down my throat If I wanted a religious facefuck I'd google... Continue Reading →