Micro Story

Happy Thankskilling

Happy Thankskilling

The evening smelled of buttered rolls, wood smoke, and overcooked pumpkin spice — comforting, suspicious, perfect.
Outside, wind worried the gutters like tapping fingers. The world felt like it was listening just a breath too close.

Inside the farmhouse dining room, a long table sat proudly centered, draped in quilted linens the color of autumn sunsets. The turkey, gloriously untouched, gleamed under amber candlelight. No one had carved it yet. Almost like no one even dared.

The chairs were occupied. Not crowded, not chaotic — just alert. A medley of masks and mismatched coats. Killers in disguise, posture relaxed, conversation dry as stuffing left out too long. The chainsaw leaned in the corner like a sleeping pet, unplugged, unbothered.

No violence happened. That was the problem.

The silence between bites of dinner was the kind that wrote its own threats. Gratitude was here somewhere — hiding under the table maybe, or in the fact everyone agreed to sit without incident, honoring the odd peace treaty of the season.

The candles flickered once, twice — then steadied.

For one slow, perfect minute, the dinner remained just dinner. The feast just a feast. And the shadows behaved.

Happy Thankskilling indeed.

🩸 Behind the Scenes... MEMOIRS COMING SOON

John's Tale and In a Nutshell RELEASING!!!

Turning memory into story means choosing vantage point and pressure. I’m using short, concrete beats—sounds, gestures, documented timestamps—to anchor emotion without overwriting. When the moment carries weight, I shorten the sentences rather than inflate the adjectives, letting the silence between actions do part of the work. For tougher scenes, I draft in a neutral voice first, focusing only on what was seen, heard, or confirmed. Then I layer in the emotional context that’s earned by those details, not assumed.

A memoir also depends on what you choose to include. I’m focusing on sections that move the story forward—moments where something shifted, clarified, or broke open. Scenes with real stakes, turning points, or clear emotional impact. Smaller memories that echo these bigger moments still matter, but only when they reinforce the central arc. This approach keeps the narrative honest, steady, and purposeful while honoring the depth of the experience.

Release Radar

(status at a glance)

The Beast
I’m finishing a final wrap on the "new" The Beast cover layout, making sure the composition reads clearly across the full front, spine, and back. The last step is locking in the tagline placement so it supports the visual flow without competing with the artwork. Once that’s set, the "new" cover will be fully publish-ready.

Night Creatures
Next up for Night Creatures is a focused, chapter-by-chapter tension polish and increasing werewolf horor. This includes sharpening the pacing in key scenes, tightening character reactions, and reinforcing the main suspense beats. I’m making sure each chapter escalates the danger and emotional pressure while keeping the werewolf lore consistent and grounded in the story’s tone. 

Cat-Killer Series
For the Cat-Killer books, I’m working on a continuity sweep to strengthen the hybrid threads that become important in the later entries. In CK 5, I’m adding a brief transition moment—a small but needed “folly → archive” bridge beat—to clarify how the characters get from one location to the next. These changes help the timeline flow more naturally and support the series' ongoing arc.  More of these will be forthcoming soon.  Books 5-8 are done and in the editing phase.

It Came From the Country Club Swimming Pool

It Came from the Country Club Swimming Pool is officially set to make landfall this holiday season, arriving by Christmas. This new story blends retro creature-feature terror with sharp character chemistry, delivering a mystery born in chlorinated water and meteor fire. After months of shaping the beats, tightening the pacing, and sharpening the scares, the book is complete and ready to debut just in time for the most unexpected Christmas release of the year. Get ready—because the monster isn’t just crashing the gala… it’s crashing the holidays.

Another

Christmas Gift

I’m also excited to share that I’ve partnered with singer-songwriter Chris Woodward on White Witch, blending story and song into a shared project aimed for a Christmas release. This collaboration brings together narrative horror and original music, building a winter-dark, emotionally charged experience around the White Witch concept. As final pieces come together, the goal is a release that feels both seasonal and haunting—something to listen to and read by cold December light.

HALLOWEEN Apology!!!

No October newsletter made it out the door, and for that, we offer a brief apology. The season was consumed by creation instead—multiple projects, expanding worlds, and the steady work of finalizing upcoming releases. Progress didn’t stop, it just outpaced the inbox. With manuscripts closing, covers upgrading, and holiday launches taking shape, the focus has been forward momentum, practicality, and preparation for a hopeful Christmas release window. Sometimes the scariest sprint is simply finishing everything on time. Hopefully, the next newsletter will carry fewer drafts and more demons—wrapped neatly for the holidays.

October belongs to Halloween—so horror had the floor. This season brought heavy thinking and new shape to the Dumb Luck and Dead Things series, and especially to our Halloween detectives, Jack and Bart. The origin traces back to 1978, when Halloween first landed on TV promo spots and late-night trailer marathons. The author and his best friend sat glued to those grainy previews flickering across living-room screens, talking over the ominous music, the suspense cuts, and the pure thrill of it all. They joked about what it would be like to step into those shoes as detectives, chasing a mystery of their own. That conversation sparked a rough idea: a story where the victim wasn’t a babysitter, but a cat—where the case turned personal, the suspect connected, and the detectives shared blood with the one holding the knife. It wasn’t drafted then, but born there, in the glow of horror advertising and hypothetical banter. Years later, Jack and Bart finally got the job. Sometimes the best stories start as a “what-if” whispered during someone else’s trailer.

Thank you for staying with this creative sprint. Whether you read for the chills, the laughs, or the worlds still unfolding—this community makes the pages worth writing.

Wishing you a Thanksgiving full of warmth, rest, and memorable moments. May your table be full, your travels smooth, and your inspiration show up exactly when it’s least expected.

Happy Thanksgiving—and Happy Thankskilling.

Finally...

Thanks again for supporting me and the indie horror community. Your support means the world to all of us. We couldn't do it without you.