Tag: writing

I’m thrilled that my newest story, “Bachelorettes on the Devil’s Dance Floor,” has entered the world between the pages of the September/October 2024 issue of Asimov’s Science Fiction. Jealous sisters, resentful besties, and reckless brides–and, of course, the devil (or is he?)–all in time for Halloween.

Read an excerpt and purchase at Asimov’s.

“The building has a rough stone façade, narrow smoke-gray windows, and brightly painted signs in several languages. The bachelorettes line up behind a crush of Asian tourists, each wearing a red lanyard.

“That bar has a shorter line,” Elle says, gesturing across the square. She’d like to get drunk as quickly as possible.

“But this bar’s authentic!” Bea argues. She wants them to remember, later—Bea planned the best trip, Bea found the best bar. She’s nearly forgotten that their attendance is an accident. A mistake, even.

“It’s for tourists,” a man says. It’s the man in the dark coat, the man with the dark eyes. 

His English is just barely molded by German. He smiles at Angie again, and this time she smiles back. “It’s not fit for a bride,” he says. “Wouldn’t you like to see the real Walpurgisnacht?”

Angie plays with the hem of her veil. She knows the plastic tiara and the sash printed “bride” in gold make her alluring—ripe but forbidden. She’s like a true spring maiden under the maypole. She plans to enjoy it.

“Yes,” Angie says.”

Weird Horror has posted my short story “The Getaway” (Issue #6) to read online.

“The person stood in the front yard, hunched over, their shoulder blades poked through their long scraggly hair. Strange that I missed it before, but they were oddly colorless—the whole image oddly colorless, like it was taken at twilight or before sunrise. I zoomed in and the image jumped to the porch swing, the black windows behind it, the big round clock beside the door. I dragged my finger on the screen, almost expecting the lawn to be empty—the figure just a glitch or my imagination.

But there they were.”

Read the story at Weird Horror.

I calculated our reunion was

In March 2022, Weird Horror published its sixth issue, which includes my story “The Getaway.” It’s inspired by one of my favorite MR James stories, “The Mezzotint,” and captures some of the particular horror of the last couple years. Here’s a snippet:

Print and digital copies are available via the Weird Horror website.

“I calculated our reunion was low-risk—we had quarantined and tested, and if we did get sick, we probably wouldn’t die. Still, I was nervous, double-checking the address, reviewing the different routes, reloading the GPS results. The app showed a grayish, fuzzy photo of the house—taken, I figured, from one of those cars with a camera on top. Compared to the listing photo, the house appeared malnourished, infirm.

That’s when I saw the figure.”

My new story is up at The Sunday Morning Transport! “The Sorcerer’s Test” is a fantasy-fairy tale with an edge. Tabitha, a young woman jaded from a lifetime of menial labor, gets a cushy job as a maid in a mysterious sorcerer’s house, where she finds more than gold coins–and has to decide what she wants most. Here’s a preview:

Tabitha was nursing a sour beer at the Bald Goat when Rosie opened the door. No one else in the tavern took notice of her return; Tabitha was the only one who knew about the job. Rosie hurried over, pulled her chair in close to the stick corner table. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, as if on the edge of fever.

Tabitha felt something unusual—a flutter of curiosity. Still, she could only articulate the banal worst. “What did he do to run you off?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Rosie whispered. “Didn’t touch me. Barely talked to me.” She shifted her cloak to show the bulging purse tied against her right hip. Shifted the other side, revealed a second fat purse. “But it’ll take me ages to spend this. Figured I should get started sooner rather than later.” She paused. “And it did get lonely up there.”

There: the Sorcerer’s house.

The Sorcerer had lived in the woods beyond Creek’s End as long as anyone could remember. He rarely showed himself. For years, the only evidence of his presence was the colorful smoke slipping from the chimney and the occasional parade of shadowy figures in the forest, always drifting toward the house, never away.

Then Rosie met him among the trees, while on her way to spend a summer evening by the water. People liked to gather a half mile before the current slowed to mud and the sparsely populated town began; they liked to forget, temporarily, that they lived where the stream turned stagnant. Creek’s End.

The Sorcerer needed a maid and he offered Rosie the job. Now that she’d quit, he needed another.

“Go now,” Rosie said. “Before he finds someone else.”

Tabitha nodded. She had nothing else: no money, no work, no reason to stay, and nowhere else to go. She took what came to her. What would a girl like her dream about, anyway?

Rosie grabbed her wrist. “One last thing: Can you read?”

“You know I can read—”

“No,” Rosie said. “The answer is no. Remember that.”

Click here for more. The story is only available to subscribers, but Substack offers a free trial–and the subscription is well worth it, delivering a new fantasy short story to your inbox every Sunday.

I’ve been driving for six hours when a hotel appears on an otherwise empty stretch of road. It has turrets and a fussy gazebo, like an antique wedding cake preserved by moonlight, and a red sign promising “vacancy.” Whatever it costs, my emergency stash will have to cover it.

My flash ghost story “The Annual Conference of the Ladies in White” is now online at Flash Fiction Online. This one was so fun to write–you can learn more about my process via FFO’s Patreon interview series.

The story is free to read online and the complete issue is available as an e-book for purchase.

I’m thrilled to start of 2022 with a new short story. “The Boyfriend Trap” is now available in the January/February issue of Asimov’s Science Fiction.  Order the print or digital issue via the Asimov’s shop.

In the story, a young woman and her boyfriend visit a cabin to hash out their plans for the future. Instead, they discover the dark heart of their relationship–and their own secret desires.

“I felt guilty for reaching for him out of anxiety, not affection. Though they’re not so separate, maybe. Like reaching for your date when the monster appears on the screen. Who do you want to be close to when you’re feeling afraid?”

Read the full story.

Update: Read my reflection on the writing of this story on the Asimov’s blog.