Cult of Crimson Tides

In this orchard 

Marguerite au Sabbat, 1911
Pascal Adolphe Jean DAGNON-BOUVERET
Le musée d'Art et d'Histoire. Cognac, France.

pendulous drops, 

red, juicy spheres

decorate my tree.

Life in monthly fruit forms.

“Eve in punishment”,

he tells me.

Descending, ever paying

for the sin of love, of beauty

and of liberty.

This is the word of God.

It is the truth,

as recorded 

by Man.

He sees me as a factory.

He strains, disgusted

at his lust, his want of me.

Appalled 

at my cries, he denies me

the rare sweet joy.

He withdraws.

Time is time, and time again.

It comes in cycles.

Tidal waves

wax and wane.

Bijoux babies - my escape 

from his oppression. 

Lovingly

I cradle them.

Innocent of him, they

grow to ignore his rhetoric.

They care not for dictators.

At fifty, flux and fucks

diminished, here’s the last.

The life within is precious.

It kicks inside my cauldron.

I am woman,

welcoming the love of man and

wishing this man

would love this woman equally

as mother of

his children, clan, his

swelling brood.

If he can’t treat the wife he chose 

with warm respect

and dignity

I’ll take our babes to

live our lives alone,

away from Christian eyes

and judgement.

Wise, safe sanctuary.

Man’s time is over.

Time is time, and time again.

Ours is now and for the first time,

mine 

will soon begin.

_______________________________________

Lily's Friday Prediction

By request, I'm using a different book to perform this week's prediction. Hmmmnnn... It's a book I love. It's a book I first read at school in the 70s, though it was written in 1951. It's a book I didn't read again until fifteen years ago. It's a book that everyone who struggles with being allowed to be oneself should read. It's On The Road by Jack Kerouac.

Before I reveal today's words I just want to applaud last week's entries. Joleen gave us a snappy, mania-ridden 'announcement'. Sue H's 17th Parallel chilled my bones. Michael Solender disturbed us, as usual. Chris Allinotte had me laughing in revenge for something I hadn't done. David Barber hurt my head, in a good way. Pixie J. King had me in tears. And my own entry - well, I had to research Korean political history and sadly, it taught me a lot. Excellent entries. Thank you.

This weeks are:

• New Orleans
• Swallow
• Phlebitis

Usual rules - 100 words max flash fiction or poetry. Please add them in the Comments box below.

And in the unlikely event that you haven't read On The Road, I recommend the version On The Road by Jack Kerouac The Original Scroll introduced by my talented old friend, Howard Cunnell.

_________________________

Their Dark Masters Cover Artwork Preview

Lookie, lookie! Sneaky peek at Mark Crittenden's superb cover for Their Dark Masters anthology. Isn't it pretty?

The anthology is filling up quickly but there is still time to enter. You can find the details at Red Skies Press, and of my involvement at an earlier post on here Their Dark Masters traps Walls of Flesh.

_________________________________

Oops!

Done it again, haven't I? Given you an extra day on the Friday Prediction!

It's because I've been stuck at home, working, with a poorly little'un, so all days have merged into one. And there I was thinking I was organised.

No matter. Get 'em in. I'll just try to recapture that extra day I didn't live. (Is that an idea for a story? Bit too 'Wonderful Life' maybe.)

See y'all Friday, if not before. :)

24th September - 00:20. Shifted up to it rightful Friday place now!

__________________________

Under Naked Leaves

She's drunker than
September berries
asleep on the ground,
her bloom bursting black
with fermenting darkness
and sweet sugar juice.

Happy Equinox everyone.
23rd September, 3:09am GMT.

I'm drumming in Mabon. Peering through the veil. Welcome to the autumn.

_____________________________

Dressing-Up Box at The New Flesh

The marvellous horror/bizarro site that is The New Flesh is running a competition on the theme of "...and that's why I keep my eye in a pickle jar." Details here.

My entry Dressing-Up Box is a demonic dance that gave me the most inappropriate pleasure to write. TNF accepted the submission - and it is now up on the site.

Do pop over to have a read and make a comment. I'd love to know what you think.

__________________________

Lily's Friday Prediction

Great stories and great debates last week with a challenging trio of words. Well done to everyone who entered. Always good to welcome new contributors, and Angel Zapata's bug-ridden tale was a joy to read.

Right. No messin' about. I'm late, I'm late, for a very important something or other. Here are this week's words:

• Korea
• Psychokinesis (psychokinetic is OK)
• Bedazzle

Usual rules - 100 words max flash fiction or poetry. Please add them in the Comments box below.

I've got a vision already. If I show you mine will you show me yours?

_____________________________

Thrillers Killers 'n' Chillers

I've been far too busy for my own good lately and have neglected the wonderful Thrillers Killers 'n' Chillers. I popped over an hour ago and found some dark and disturbing treasures from Ron Koppelberger, Sandra Seamans, Sean Patrick Reardon and  Joleen Kuyper.

Don't be a stranger like me. Pay a visit. Hell, submit something.

____________________________

A Real Horror Story

More disgusting news of abuse by church leaders, this time Catholic priests in Belgium. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-11281071

This is where the true horror lies; not in the pen of wordsmiths but in the sick minds and hands of those who are supposed to be Men of God. They seem to be outside of the law. I know what I'd do to the filthy pigs.

And that pope bloke's coming to the UK this week. Appalling.

Please note, I am not anti-Christian; I am not anti-religion. But I am anti anyone using religion (or anything else, for that matter) as an excuse to carry out abuse. Sorry for rant. Had to be said.

Lily's Friday Prediction

Lycanthropy, voodoo, aliens, lunatics, fairgrounds, coffee and muh-muh-muh-murrrrder all starred in last week's prediction. Well done everyone who entered - great stories and comments, as always.

Are this week's a bit tough to combine? I dunno. Looks like I swallowed a dictionary - oh, I did. I'm very intrigued to see what you can do with these:

• Parable
• Nestle
• Hypothesis

Usual rules - 100 words max flash fiction or poetry. Please add them in the Comments box below. The challenge is set...

____________________________

The New Flesh - Submission Accepted.

Thanks to Brian Barnett, co-editor of deliciously dark The New Flesh for accepting my submission to TNF's Inaugural TNF Flash Fiction War.

Mine is a demonic little tale called Dressing-Up Box that Brian kindly said is "very Clive Barker of you". Shucks.

It'll run on Saturday 18th September. I'll link to it on the day.

Anyone else entered?

___________________________

Two Many Knees

Over here in the UK it's that time of year again. The nights are cooling rapidly and new cobwebs seem to crop up from nowhere, glistening with dew in the morning light, or clouding the corners of your room.

I have big time respect for the eight-legged breed, but with a thing about creatures  with too many or extra high knees I'd rather they didn't come for me.

Who's had a spider encounter, either real or fictional? Let's have a Spider Week 2010! Post something on your blog - no limits - and whack your link in the Comments box below.

Here's a friendly little pome I wrote last year. Bet you can go darker :)

TICKLE

On the loose
In your house
Scampering up walls.
Velvet legs
Thick as twigs
Scuttling down halls.
Dropping down
By your face
Frightening you half mad.
No wonder
Spiders run
If you think them bad.
When you scream
What of him?
Sensitive fine hairs
Tense up tight.
He screams too.
Panic on the stairs.
Wish him well,
Arachnid,
Prowling in the night.
On the hunt
For a mate.
Pity him his plight.
Pointed knees,
Bubbled eyes
Staring from his nest.
Waiting there.
Why not say
'Welcome' to your guest.

_____________________________________

Film Score Fantasy

If your book sold the film rights and you had any iota of a say in what music - be it song or instrumental - was to be the theme tune/score, what would you choose - and why? May I just point out though, this a is a fantasy question - it ain't never gonna happen! (Don't correct my English.)

For 'Dispirited' - about a rip-off artist, it might be 'What Kind of Fool' by All About Eve - all about leaving your most precious things out in the rain.

For 'Magenta Shaman' - Insomnia by Faithless. All those delirious things that happen to your head when you "can't get no sleep..." yet Magenta goes to those places whenever she wants to.

I'm loving Florence and the Machine's 'Girl with One Eye' below - no book to associate it with so maybe just a Launch Party dream. :) Or write something about a pie. So Grace Slick.



Tell me more...

__________________________________________

Lily's Friday Prediction

Stunning entries last week from Michael Solender, Chris Allinotte, Lee Hughes, Mike Macrum (welcome Mike!), David Barber, Sue H and moi (not saying mine was stunning - it was just there). I'm loving that everyone is commenting on each other's work too. Great stuff.

This week's three are almost too easy. Can't believe these are what my fingers fell upon in an encyclopaedic dictionary that contains millions of words; but there you are. I do, however LOVE each of these particular words so am looking forward to seeing how you tie them together (ahum.)

As it should be so easy, maybe I should challenge you to write something unexpected...? Nah - just go for it; whatever you please. The words are:

• Lunar
• Bootlace (plural is OK)
• Voodoo

See!

Usual rules, 100 words max (excluding title) flash fiction or poetry using all of the words above. Please use the Comments Box to add your entry. Three, two, one...

___________________________

Their Dark Masters traps Walls of Flesh

This morning I had great delight in hearing that Mark Crittenden has accepted Walls of Flesh, recently showcased on The Feardom, into Red Skies Press' forthcoming vampire anthology Their Dark Masters.

I've been invited to submit another, full-length piece of between 4-7000 words, and am working on The Infanta Triptych. The Triptych's three stars hope to introduce themselves very soon.

____________________________

Grave Echoes by Erin Cole

Been waitin' too long... and finally - it's here!

The Feardom is very excited that Erin Cole's début novel Grave Echoes is now up for grabs - and grab it you should. Her writing is mysterious, dark and exquisite, laden with sensual and poetic treats.

Grave Echoes is on my wish list - don't you dare get it before I do! But if you must, then take a look at Erin's blog 'Listen to the Voices' to find out where you can buy it. If you're in the UK like me you can get it from Amazon.co.uk.

Congratulations Erin, bring on Wicked Tempest.

____________________________________

Cold Heart - now showing in Michael J. Solender's Dog Days of Summer

Back at the beginning of summer MJS launched a great challenge. Write 101 words exactly to include the words 'Summer' and 'Heat'; the best entries would appear in an e-chap book to be launched today, 1st September.

Well, I heard from Mr S back in August that my little 101-worder Cold Heart had been selected with an honorary mention. Ooh! Had to keep stum until today but now Dog Days of Summer is out there! And there are some great photos too.

The winning entry by Sam Adamson was a cool giggle, well deserved. Great interview at the NOT too.

You can download the e-chap book FREE from here. Cold Heart is on page 34, but you can also read it below. Many thanks Michael. An excellent literary event.

Cold Heart

It glistens in someone else’s hand. No matter. I have to have it. I’ve got to take it off her, assuage the rabid heat that has made me sweat and stink throughout this evil, relentless summer.

Walking, marching, running now I snatch it and abscond, licking at the frozen juice as I sprint away. Sugared orange spills and drips over my grateful breasts.

The mother’s shouts and her daughter’s ugly wailing do nothing to stop me in my tracks. I suck until the bleached popsicle breaks apart in my mouth and I collapse to the ground, sticky with neuralgia... and regret.

_______________________________