The Mourner's Cradle: A Widow's Journey by Tommy B. Smith

Release date: September 14, 2018
Subgenre: Horror, Dark fantasy

About The Mourner's Cradle:

 

The tale of a widow's harrowing journey through grief and peril into the cold remnants of a dead world.

Damon Sharpe had in part found victory, he believed, in his battle to unearth a truth obscured by time. By autumn, he was dead, leaving to his wife Anne a house of unfulfilled wishes, remnants, and the key to the enigma of his obsession, the Mourner’s Cradle.

A journey through grief and peril delivers Anne Sharpe from her home in St. Charles to the faraway skeletons of a long-dead civilization where she will find the desperate answers she seeks…or die trying.

This horror novel is perfect for fans of…

• The Silent Corner by Dean Koontz
• The Fisherman by John Langan
• The Grieving Stones by Gary McMahon
• Daphne du Maurier
• Thomas Ligotti
• Shirley Jackson
• Dan Simmons

Proudly represented by Crystal Lake Publishing—Tales from the Darkest Depths.

 

Excerpt:

 

She faced the black-haired man in the blue suit and locked him full in her stare. “You have no right to be here.”

Keller appeared surprised. The surprise was feigned, Anne knew. No matter what he pretended or said to the contrary, Keller knew the hardship he had inflicted.

“You did your best to destroy everything my husband worked for,” Anne said to him.

“No, Mrs. Sharpe, you have it wrong,” Keller said.

“He was my husband,” she said. “You think I don’t know what went on in his life? You think I don’t know about the things you’ve done? You’re a liar, Keller.”

Keller looked around, becoming nervous. People were staring. Tabby Reinhart, still standing near, took another step back.

“Get out of here,” Anne said to Keller. “You are not welcome here. Get out.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he asked.

“Get out!” Her hand twisted into a fist. She swung and struck him right in the face.

Keller’s head jerked back. His face flushed crimson. He grabbed her arms and she fought him, screaming.

“GET OUT! GET OUT!”

Arms grabbed Keller from behind and pulled him back. Tabby rushed between them, pleading quietly with Anne. Anne shoved her away. More people pulled Anne back, but she shouted and fought against them.

Keller yanked his arms free of those around him and strode for the door. At the door, he took a look back, his jaw clenched. His eyes burned with anger.

“Dear, please,” the older woman urged Anne. “It’s all right. He’s gone.”

Anne turned her eyes toward the door where Keller stood a moment before, saw the truth of the old woman’s words, and forced her mouth shut. She pushed her shaking hands down to her sides.

“Will you be all right?” another voice asked her from out of eyesight. She didn’t know who had spoken and didn’t care. She took a deep breath. With this group of people around her, she felt like she was suffocating.

“Please,” she said through her teeth. “I just need to be alone.”

The group hesitated. After a moment, someone stepped away. The rest soon followed, leaving Anne again to stand in front of her husband’s coffin, tears on her face, emotion pouring from her fractured life.

The people standing behind her still wore those masks of concern, she imagined. She couldn’t turn to face them. Not now, in her moment of weakness. They didn’t deserve to witness this, her fragility. Besides, they wouldn’t understand.

It wasn’t sadness that possessed her and hardened her face against the tears that fell. It was hatred.

 

Amazon

 

About Tommy B. Smith: 

Tommy B. Smith is a writer of dark fiction and author of The Mourner’s Cradle, Poisonous, and the short story collection Pieces of Chaos. His work has appeared in numerous publications over the years, including Every Day Fiction, Night to Dawn, and the anthology Tales from The Lake Vol. 3. His presence currently infests Fort Smith, Arkansas, where he resides with his wife and cats. 

Website

The Boy With The Blue Sky by N.C. Davis

Release date: February 6, 2017

Subgenre: Science fiction short story

About The Boy With The Blue Sky: 

 

How far would you go to bring back a loved one from the dead?

Theo returned her stare. 'It's not just a program.'
'Then what the hell is it?' she said.
'It's a digital reconstruction of our son.'

On the anniversary of their young son’s death, teacher Eury can only find peace by descending into an electronically-induced world of dreamless sleep.

Her husband Theo, a music lecturer, is at the end of his tether and has tried everything he can think of to drag Eury out of the darkness. So, in a final act of desperation he acquires software that can digitally resurrect their child.

Will it bring Eury back to him or will the shock drive her deeper into a world of endless slumber?

The Boy with the Blue Sky is a story that shines a light on the steady creep of technology, into the most intimate parts of our lives.

Word count 5083

Excerpt:

 

1.0

A firm hand gripped Eury’s wrist and dragged her out of dreamless sleep. As her eyes adjusted to the bedroom’s dusk, Theo’s silhouette formed above her and his dark thumb kneaded her neural tattoo as if to crush a tick.

‘Jesus,’ Eury hissed. She tried to tug her wrist from his grasp. ‘What do you think you are doing?’

He did not loosen his grip. ‘What day is it?’

She clawed at his hand. ‘Stop that. I need it.’

‘It’s been a year, Eury,’ Theo said.

‘I have nothing to wake for.’

He dropped her thin arm back onto the mattress. ‘It’s waiting for you downstairs.’

Eury struggled to sit upright. ‘What’s waiting?’

The door swallowed Theo’s silence as he left the bedroom.

‘Bastard,’ Eury said.  She shifted sun-starved legs over the bedside and the cold tiles felt soft beneath her numbed feet.

‘Curtain,’ she said and the dark window cleared to make a dawn of the midday sun; a year since their world broke into three separate blades.

*

As Eury entered the living space, she trembled in the wake of an electric breeze; a ghost in a thin white nightslip.
A sliver of glass stood on a low table. It framed a field of amber grasses which swayed beneath a washed out sky. And at its centre cycled Lionel, a small sun-bleached version of his father, on a journey he would never complete.

‘Not this,’ Eury said.

She slapped the frame down and sunk into a sofa as it rose from the floor. The opposite wall kept its pearl camouflage, where once it pulsed pictures of the Westminster Canals, a family party, their son.

‘Theatre,’ said Theo as he entered the living space. Liquid crystal windows cleared their panes of centigrade, then flashed opaque to blot out the sun.

Eury glanced up in the darkness. ‘What’s this all about?’

Theo eased beside her on the seat, but as usual she shrank from his side.

‘Threnody,’ he replied then finally turned to face the wall ahead.

Sudden wind chimes rushed about their ears. Three sparks flit amongst themselves, mere inches from their faces, until they spiraled into a tunnel of light. It exploded into a brightness that blew her irises. The image dimmed and a field emerged, so green that it could not be alive. To their left, a distant yew broke through the earth. To their right, a puff of cumulus blossomed in the sky. Finally, the light dimmed to match the hour even though they could see no sun.

The ident flashed its arrival in the top left corner.

‘What’s three-node?’ said Eury.

‘A gift from me,’ he replied.

She eyed the glass frame on the table, a previous gift, and Eury’s skin cooled.

Then a speck beyond the yew caught her eye. ‘What’s that?’

The speck became a dot. Then it passed the yew to wade through emerald fields. The dot became a silhouette, then- her heart thumped - a boy.

Amazon.com | Amazon UK

About N.C. Davis:

N C Davis is a freelance writer and fantasy author who performed her short story, The Red Hibiscus, live at the ABCtales.com EMMA awards in 2003.  When she isn't trying to discover new worldwide folktales, she writes speculative fiction, modern fairytales and dark fantasy stories.

Amazon Author Page