Goldfish

Need some help please.

What food do goldfish like best? Is it plant based? Do they like a bit of MEAT in their diet?

My Writing

I feel privileged that some of my writing has been published on Matt Hilton (Author of Dead Men's Dust) and Col Bury's Thriller Killers 'N' Chillers blog.


I'd love to hear what you think.

You can read a few of my stories to date. Excerpts below - just grab the link to read the full nasty little tale:

Scuttle. Oh, I so enjoyed writing this horrid little gothic number...

Ghost Story. Forget 2012...
I come at the behest of all souls who have trodden this Earth, who still roam her surface unseen – overlapping by the millions – to give you fair warning.

Welfare and School Gates. This one's here on the blog...

'Unft mother'
I stop suddenly. I pivot on sodden leaves; rain penetrates the holes in the souls of my boots. There's no-one there.

Slideshow. All very jolly hockeysticks:

‘So that was my trip to Windsor. Lovely gardens, aren’t they? Now, here’s my world falling apart. Look. See, you can just make out my husband’s feet sticking out from behind the sofa.

The Apprentice. Fangtastic flash fiction:

'...blood fell into his mouth from where it had congealed. He licked it, blending the flakes and his saliva into a sticky fluid.'

Watched. Don't mess with madness:

'They’re always there now, watching. I don’t know what they want. I don’t know what they’re waiting for.'

Fashion Victim. Death and horror on the catwalk:

'...I arranged for my guts to spill as I took my final step on the catwalk, models towering above my slight frame, praising and applauding me, all glittering in the darkness of my exquisite designs.

Grub Up. Short, 'flash fiction' story about a desperate hunger with particular tastes:

'Vanessa was skeletal. I could barely get any meat off her bones so I just gnawed away at the stringy flesh. I sighed. I’d starve at this rate.'

Treachery

Dancin’ at the disco

Dancing at the disco

Heart race, his face

Fast beat, my meat

Reaching at the disco
Touching at the disco
Our eyes, my thighs
Boys bet, toilet.

Bastard at the disco
Screwed me at the disco
Took love, too rough
Broke
My
Bleeding
Heart
 

(c) Lily Childs May 2009

Winner - Writers' Magazine Online Forum 'Talkback' One Word Challenge

Poem

Falling Down

Today brings tumbles, trips
And stumbles.
Running ever late.
Limbs are tangled.
Knees get banged, all
At my child's school gate.
Tears are hers, and
Tears are mine and
This does not bode well.
Time to exorcise
My demons.
Damn them all to hell.
'Leave my body'. Clumsy
Imps. 'Be gone.'
'Don't pester me.'
Blame my tired eyes,
Insomnia.
It's the death of me.

(c) Lily Childs September 2009

Fairy Things

There are fairies in my house. I've seen them. They keep peeking at me. They're a lot taller than I expected - maybe that's the domestic fairy. The ones in the wild are definitely diddy.

I wondered today - if I could shape-shift, what would I become? And if I was a good enough shaman to become one creature, then why not another?

*>*>*>*>*>*>>*<<*<*<*<*<*<

Slightly related to the above; although I am 23,000 words into the main novel - oh dear - I now have another on the go. It was meant to be a 5000 word short story but I couldn't get it down to less than 6200. And it ended with a beginning - so it's crying out to be a series.

If you like fantasy horror, bitter revenge and terrifying beasts with deadly, suppurating wounds - then this might appeal. It's called Magenta Shaman.