Monday, August 6, 2018

Welcome to the Show: 17 Horror Stories - One Legendary Venue, edited by Matt Hayward and Doug Murano

Release date: August 3, 2018
Subgenre: Horror anthology

About Welcome to the Show: 17 Horror Stories - One Legendary Venue: 

 

17 horror Stories. One legendary music venue.

We all know the old cliché: Sex, drugs and rock and roll. Now, add demons, other dimensions, monsters, revenge, human sacrifice, and a dash of the truly inexplicable. This is the story of the (fictional) San Francisco music venue, The Shantyman.

In Welcome to the Show, seventeen of today's hottest writers of horror and dark fiction come together in devilish harmony to trace The Shantyman's history from its disturbing birth through its apocalyptic encore.

Featuring stories by Brian Keene, John Skipp, Mary SanGiovanni, Robert Ford, Max Booth III, Glenn Rolfe, Matt Hayward, Bryan Smith, Matt Serafini, Kelli Owen, Jonathan Janz, Patrick Lacey, Adam Cesare, Alan M Clark, Somer Canon, Rachel Autumn Deering and Jeff Strand.

Compiled by Matt Hayward. Edited by Doug Murano.

Bring your curiosity, but leave your inhibitions at the door. The show is about to begin…

TOC:
  • Alan M Clark – What Sort of Rube
  • Jonathan Janz – Night and Day and in Between
  • John Skipp – In the Winter of No Love
  • Patrick Lacey – Wolf with Diamond Eyes
  • Bryan Smith – Pilgrimage
  • Rachel Autumn Deering – A Tongue like Fire
  • Glenn Rolfe – Master of Beyond
  • Matt Hayward – Dark Stage
  • Kelli Owen – Open Mic Night
  • Matt Serafini – Beat on the Past
  • Max Booth III – True Starmen
  • Somer Canon – Just to be Seen
  • Jeff Strand – Parody
  • Robert Ford – Ascending
  • Adam Cesare – The Southern Thing
  • Brian Keene – Running Free
  • Mary SanGiovanni – We Sang in Darkness

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

 

Excerpt:

 

Dark Stage


Matt Hayward



Leather-clad rockers milled about the open floor of the Shantyman with their voices raised to be heard above the juke. Sweat, smoke and aftershave collected in an invisible cloud, hot-boxing the venue for another night of sex and sin. In the morning, recollection of those smells would send a hot jet of puke into the bowl of many unfortunate drinkers, but for now, tomorrow stayed at arm’s length. The night had just begun.
At the bar, Fred involuntarily spat beer as his bones burned like hot coals. He slammed his glass to the countertop and clutched his fist with a wince. Only Tuesday night, and already he’d experienced several flairs. Arthritis at forty-three. Man, sometimes life dealt a stinker.
Paul paused with a handful of empty glasses behind the bar and arched a bushy brow. “Another one?”
“Make it a whiskey.”
“I meant your hands, man. Bad?”
Fred flexed his fists and lay them out on the countertop, ignoring the layer of sticky film. His digits visibly shook. Goddamn it.
Paul sighed and grabbed a bottle of Jack, untwisted the top. “Look, I’ll make it a double and I’ll make it free. Ain’t gonna lie, this place won’t be the same without you, man. You were the best sound guy I ever knew.”
Fred gave a tight-lipped smile and watched the bartender pour, jealous of the smooth motion. He envied the majority of the population and their pain-free joints. “Much obliged, buddy.”
Paul grunted and returned the bottle beside the others, most half empty even though they’d only restocked Sunday. Then he shouted for Justine to handle the clamor of drinkers who’d swarmed like the walking dead and stepped out from behind the bar. He pulled up a stool next to Fred, snorted. “Bossman due down soon?”
Fred eyed his whiskey, hands folded together while waiting for the tremors to pass. Pain thumped beneath his skin in rhythm to the music of the room’s speakers. “He gets in at ten. Just enough time for me to catch the show tonight. Then I do what I got to do.”
“He’s not going to be happy about losing you, Fred. There’s a reason he bought you out from the Fillmore. You know how to work a sound desk better than any man in all of San Fran.”
“Don’t I know it, babe.” Fred reached for his whiskey and quickly scooped it to his lips before spilling too much. He gulped, returning the glass to the table with a hiss. The chore hurt more than he cared to admit. Hot liquor burned his chest and he relished the waxy air in his throat.
Paul shook his head. “Man, it’s gotten bad, huh? Jesus.”
“Looks like benefits for me until I find a job that doesn’t involve my hands.”
For a moment the thought twisted Fred’s guts and he eyed the wall of signed memorabilia behind the bar to avoid overthinking. His future looked as grim as most the Shantyman’s pint glasses—but he had the choice to drink from one or not.

 

Amazon | Goodreads | Crystal Lake Publishing

 

 

 About Matt Hayward:

 

MATT HAYWARD is a Bram Stoker Award-nominated author and musician from Ireland. His books include Brain Dead Blues, What Do Monsters Fear?, Practitioners (with Patrick Lacey), and the upcoming The Faithful. He curated the anthology Welcome to The Show, and is currently writing a novel with Bryan Smith. Matt wrote the comic book This Is How It Ends with the rock band Walking Papers, and received a nomination for Irish short story of the year from Penguin Books in 2017. His work has appeared in Clickers Forever, Tales from The Lake Vol. 3, Lost Highways, Dark Moon Digest and many more.

Hailed as “one of the best new voices in horror fiction” by Brian Keene, MATT SERAFINI’s books include Feral, Devil’s Row, Island Red, and Under the Blade, which FilmThrills called “one of the best slasher films you’ll ever read.”

He co-authored a collection of short stories with Adam Cesare called All-Night Terror and his short fiction has appeared in numerous anthology collections, including Dead Bait 4, and Clickers Forever: A Tribute to J.F. Gonzalez.

He has written extensively on the subjects of film and literature for numerous websites including Dread Central and Shock Till You Drop. His nonfiction has also appeared in the pages of Fangoria and HorrorHound.

Matt lives in Massachusetts with his wife and children.


Website | Twitter

 

About Doug Murano: 

 

Doug Murano lives somewhere between Mount Rushmore and the mighty Missouri River. He is the Bram Stoker Award-winning editor of Behold! Oddities, Curiosities and Undefinable Wonders and the co-editor of Bram Stoker Award-nominated Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories.

Since 2008, his short stories have appeared in a number of venues. He is an Active Member of the Horror Writers Association, and was the organization's promotions and social media coordinator from 2013-15. He is a co-recipient of the HWA's 2014 Richard Laymon President's Award for Service.
 

Website | Twitter

Friday, August 3, 2018

Speculative Fiction Links of the Week for August 3, 2018


It's time for the weekly round-up of interesting links about speculative fiction from around the web, this week with the firing of James Gunn from Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3,  Ant-Man and the Wasp, Titans, Extinction, Castle Rock, Sorry to Bother You, the latest from San Diego Comic Con, the latest on the WorldCon 76 programing uproar as well as the usual mix of awards news, writing advice, interviews, reviews, con reports, crowdfunding campaigns, science articles, free online fiction and much more. 

Speculative fiction in general:

Comments on the firing of James Gunn from Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3: 

Comments on Ant-Man and the Wasp: 

Comments on Titans:

Comments on Castle Rock: 

Comments on Extinction:

Comments on Sorry To Bother You: 

Awards:

Writing, publishing and promotion:

Interviews:

Reviews:

Crowdfunding:

Con reports:

Science and technology:

Free online fiction:

Odds and ends:

Thursday, August 2, 2018

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

The Lord of Always by David Brian

Release date: August 1, 2018
Subgenre: Dark Fantasy, Horror

About The Lord of Always:

 

Can this really be the remains of an angel? And if it is, shouldn't we all tremble in anticipation of what awaits at our end?

For Frank and Roz Tanner, booking a honeymoon at Penhale House, set amid beautiful Cornish landscapes, should have been the perfect getaway. But the house sits on a nexus point; a gateway to demonic realms.

Amid a turbulence of twisting realities, and facing legions of fallen angels and nightmarish servitors, Frank and Roz become separated. Frank turns to a local pensioner for assistance. But the enigmatic George Smoke is a man who offers more questions than answers.

Confronted by dark gods and cosmic abominations, Frank faces a battle for his wife's soul. It seems a fight he is destined to lose... but he must succeed. Saving Roz is the key to everything.


Excerpt:

 

The monkeys surrounded us, hissing, spitting, pissing, and pelting us with a barrage of half-eaten and rotting projectiles, while all the time remaining beyond the reach of my staff. Roz was panic stricken, rigid with fear and screaming in terror. I knew it was only a matter of time before the animals became brave enough to launch a full-on attack. We were in trouble…
   And then we heard it.
   It began as a rhythmic hum, at first its volume barely competing with the war cries of the irate monkeys. But the tone increased exponentially, both in beat and volume, until the whoops of the animals began to lessen and fade. The monkeys’ attention shifted from us, heads turned toward the depths of the forest. Fur bristled and bodies set with fear as widened eyes scanned the boundary of the farthest tree line. We stood frozen, unsure of the source for the bizarre industrial sound which now encompassed the entirety of the trees. I was also aware that, whatever this noise was, it had succeeded in terrifying the monkeys – though it is also fair to say this self-same contagion of fear seeped into us.
   I dropped the stick and took Roz by the hand, wanting to turn and run, but unsure as to whether this action would reignite the animals’ interest. Roz remained rooted. She was either unwilling or unable to speak, though she did manage to lift her arm and point into the woods.
   Eyes narrowing, I peered into the distance in time to see a flash of white light emanate from amid the thickets and trees. It was at this moment I realized the sound – it had started out as a hum, but contained within its rhythm was a pulsing thrump thrump – had risen even higher in tone. A high-pitched ear-piercing whine engulfed the forest, and this, in turn, was creating a panicked frenzy among the woodland creatures. Overhead, birds took to the skies, cawing and chirping with frantic alarm; in the bushes around us, skittish creatures moved at speed through the undergrowth and then a young gray rabbit broke cover and ran across the toe of my shoe. The monkeys began toing and froing, fidgeting back and forth along the branches supporting them, calling out noisily for the support and guidance of their leaders in what they perceived as the face of this coming threat.
   I balked as, only several feet above the ground and barely twenty feet in front of us, a translucent egg of rainbow light winked into existence – and then it was gone. I wondered if I experienced a stress induced hallucination, but the look on Roz’s face confirmed the egg – which was just large enough to contain a glowing, seemingly humanoid figure within its shell – had been real.
   And then it returned. Blinking into our world, it pulsed with every color of a storm-rainbow, expanding then contracting with the steady rhythm of a beating heart.
   The first was swiftly followed by a second luminous orb.
   And then another.
   Several more arrived in quick succession.
   It was at this point the first monkey exploded…


Amazon.com | Amazon UK | Paperback


About David Brian:

 

David Brian knew from an early age that he was going to be a writer. He also knew his writing would cover metaphysical subjects. As a child he was often accused of having a 'weird and disturbed' imagination. This was a good thing, right?
Born in the shire county of Northamptonshire, in the very heart of England, much off his childhood was spent listening to dark folktales, and learning of mysterious happenings.

Unlike a majority of his peers - who tended towards dreams involving superheroes, or space roving astronauts, or finding themselves stranded alongside pirates on the shores of some far flung desert island, or locked in life and death battles with marauding hordes of Viking invaders - David preferred spending his days mulling over the prospect (and possible perks) of becoming a werewolf or vampire (either would have done). Having failed miserably in achieving either of these two goals, he has instead set about crafting stories of haunted places, shape-shifting monsters, and other monstrosities that make real our nightmares by way of inter-dimensional rifts, genetic manipulation, and via the curse of ancient, tainted bloodlines.


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