This month marks a milestone for Gilligoree Press: the editor has been working overtime!!! The final entries in the Dumb Luck & Dead Things saga are complete. What began as a chaotic mystery in Pickleton has spiraled into something far stranger—voids tearing open, prophecies fulfilled, loyalties tested, and consequences that refuse to stay contained.

Jack and Bart have faced hybrids, dolls, cults, cosmic gates, and their own unraveling sanity. Now the story reaches its most dangerous edge.

The Dumb Luck & Dead Things Series Ends

Nine books.
Two detectives.
One town that should have been abandoned years ago.

Pickleton was never meant to survive what happened to it.

From the first strange whisper of feline footprints at impossible crime scenes to the unraveling of reality itself, Dumb Luck & Dead Things has been a saga stitched together with dread, absurdity, and stubborn loyalty. Jack and Bart—reluctant heroes, accidental myth-bearers, and deeply flawed investigators—have chased conspiracies through back alleys, retirement homes, abandoned rec centers, sewer tunnels, and fractures in the sky. They have stood before cursed relics that hummed with memory, faced hybrid creatures born from fear and fur, and tried—again and again—to outrun the consequences of choices made long ago.

What began with cats became something far stranger.

The yarn led to patterns.
The patterns led to prophecy.
The prophecy led to Jeremy.

Across nine books, the town descended into escalating chaos: cultists in glittering robes, dimensional tears pulsing above playground slides, porcelain smiles watching from mirrors, and the slow revelation that Pickleton was not just haunted—it was structured around something ancient and stitched wrong. At the center of it all stood Jeremy Collins, once a troubled boy, later a whisper in the walls, and finally something vast enough to bend light and language around him. And beside him, the doll—silent, patient, terrible in its stillness.

The Meowtrix was never just a joke. It was a latticework of fear, memory, and shared delusion—an ecosystem of belief that fed on attention and clawed its way into reality. Jack and Bart did not simply investigate it; they were woven into it. Every solved mystery pulled another thread loose. Every confrontation tightened the knot.

Now, with Jeremy the Voidbringer, that knot is cut.

This is the end of the cats.
The end of the yarn.
The end of the cursed books and cosmic collars.
The end of Jeremy’s long shadow stretching across Pickleton.
The end of the doll’s quiet, porcelain patience.

The saga that defined Dumb Luck & Dead Things closes here—complete, explosive, and irreversible.

But endings are not erasures.

Pickleton still exists. The streets are still cracked. The diners still serve burnt coffee. Jack and Bart are still standing—older, wearier, changed. The supernatural chaos that consumed their town has been sealed, silenced, or scattered beyond reach. What remains are mysteries of a different kind. Human ones. Dangerous in quieter ways. Cases without prophecy. Crimes without cosmic punchlines.

The future of Dumb Luck will look different. No hybrids lurking in alleyways. No stitched dimensions peeling open above the fairgrounds. No whispers of the Meowtrix humming beneath everyday life. Instead, a return to grounded investigations—murders, disappearances, secrets buried not by magic but by motive.

And they may not face that future alone.

Two new detectives may step into Pickleton’s uneasy calm, bringing fresh eyes and sharper instincts. Whether they join forces or clash with the veterans remains to be seen.

One era ends.
Another begins.

If you haven’t entered Pickleton yet, now is the time—to witness how the cat saga concludes and to stand at the threshold of whatever comes next.

In the Writing Crypt

The ground is shifting beneath Gilligoree Press—and not everything clawing upward is new. From prehistoric terror to generational horror…
from buried fossils to burning streets…

The Writing Crypt is very much alive. Coming in the near future:

The Trog Series

Trog 1970 returns to the origins of a misunderstood monster—science colliding with fear, ambition corrupting compassion, and the question that lingers: what truly makes something human? Rooted in retro horror and tragic intensity, this reimagining digs deeper into the myth and the morality behind the creature.

But the story doesn’t stay buried.

TROG 2025 pulls the legend into the modern world. Decades later, a descendant seeks proof that the original Trog was real—and wronged. As anthropology meets conspiracy, past sins resurface. What was once dismissed as primitive may hold evolutionary truths too dangerous to expose. The question shifts from Was Trog real? to What if he was never the monster?

This series blends creature horror with generational reckoning, examining legacy, exploitation, and the thin line between discovery and destruction.

Red in the Hood

A different kind of legend stalks the streets.

Red in the Hood drags a familiar fairy tale into a fractured modern world where the forest and the block aren’t so different. Red isn’t wandering through trees—she’s navigating territory divided by fear, rhetoric, and inherited bias. The wolves aren’t hiding in shadows; they’re organizing. And the lines between predator and protector blur quickly.

Part political fable, part urban myth, part tragic romance, this series reimagines folklore through the lens of power, resistance, and identity. With musical undertones and sharp social commentary, Red in the Hood asks who really controls the story—and who benefits when it’s retold.

COMING SOON on Amazon !!!

From Stage to Page: The Origin of Red in the Hood

Red in the Hood did not begin as a novel. It began as a stage idea—an ambitious, modern reimagining of Little Red Riding Hood written for the students of 12th and Marion in Reading, Pennsylvania.

The original concept was simple but bold: take a familiar fairy tale and place it in a world that felt closer to home. Instead of a quiet forest path, the setting shifted to streets filled with tension, identity, and community conflict. The wolves were no longer just creatures lurking behind trees; they became symbols—of fear, misunderstanding, power, and survival. Red herself was no passive traveler. She had agency, voice, and questions about the world she was walking through.

What started as a script for students quickly grew in scope. Songs were drafted. Character arcs expanded. Themes deepened. The play was designed to give young performers meaningful roles—complex emotions, layered motivations, and moments of both humor and heartbreak. It was meant to challenge them and give them ownership over a story that had been told for generations.

But like many creative projects, it paused before it was complete.

For years, the script sat unfinished—its scenes drafted, its music sketched, its message waiting. The story lingered, refusing to disappear. Then, last year, it was finally brought to completion. The musical was fully written, the arcs resolved, the themes sharpened. The forest and the block were fully realized. The wolves had names. Red had purpose.

And something unexpected happened in the process.

The story demanded more space.

The dialogue, songs, and staging evolved into something that felt cinematic and immersive. The world needed internal monologue, atmosphere, backstory, and tension that stretched beyond the stage. So Red in the Hood became more than a musical—it became a novelization.

The book expands the emotional layers of the original play. Readers step inside Red’s thoughts, the wolves’ motivations, and the fragile systems dividing their world. The tension breathes differently on the page. The stakes feel heavier. The symbolism sharpens. What began as a student production concept grew into a fully realized literary work.

But the music was always part of its DNA.

To preserve that theatrical heartbeat, the novel includes a QR code in the back linking directly to the songs from the musical. Readers can experience the story both ways—through prose and through performance. The stage and page exist together, each enhancing the other.

Today, Red in the Hood lives in multiple forms.
The completed musical is available as a full stage production.
The novel stands on its own as a modern, layered reimagining of a classic tale.

What began as a project for students at 12th and Marion has grown into a world of its own—one rooted in education, creativity, and the belief that even the oldest stories deserve to be retold with new voices.

Reader Challenge – February

Post a photo of your GilliGoree book collection and tag GilliGoree Press.
One randomly selected reader will receive a signed bookplate.

Try This…Ask the Author

Have a question you’ve always wanted to ask? Wonder how a story came together, why a character made that decision, or what inspired a particular scene? This is your invitation.

Readers are encouraged to reach out with questions, thoughts, or reflections on any of the books—Dumb Luck and Dead Things, In a Nutshell, or John’s Tale: Living on a Prayer. Whether it’s about writing, themes, characters, or the real-life stories behind the pages, your questions help shape future conversations and content.

Selected questions may be answered in upcoming newsletters, on the website, or in special behind-the-scenes features. This is a chance to be part of the creative dialogue—not just a reader, but a voice in the ongoing story.

To submit a question or message, reply to this newsletter or use the contact form on the website. Sharing your email also ensures you’ll receive updates, early announcements, and exclusive content.

Stories are meant to be shared.
Let’s keep the conversation going.

Support Independent Horror

If you’ve read a GilliGoree title:

• Leave a review

• Recommend it to a friend

• Share your favorite quote

• Request it at your local library

Every small action keeps the horror alive.

A Note of Gratitude

Every story needs someone willing to walk into the dark first.

This month, I want to thank my editor for the steady eye, the honest feedback, and the patience it takes to shape chaos into clarity. From tightening tension to catching the smallest thread before it unraveled, their work has strengthened every page. Horror may live in the shadows—but good editing brings it into focus.

GilliGoree Press is better because of that partnership.

Finally...

In Closing

The worlds are expanding.
The gates are thinning.
The void is patient.

Thank you for being part of Gilligoree Press.

More soon.