Spooky Halloween Reads

As the sun dips over the horizon and the moon waits for its debut, there are ghosts, goblins, and creepy creatures getting ready for their nocturnal adventures. We glimpse them from our peripheral vision, shake our heads, and look directly for that movement. We are not quick enough to see, but we feel them pass us, by the chills on our arms and neck.

Here are two collections of short stories by the hand of Cyn Bagley–

smoke & mirrorsSmoke & Mirrors
Kindle: 1.99

Don’t forget your nightlight.

ghostly glimmer2015ebookcoverGhostly Glimmers
Kindle 2.99

We die. Sometimes we see ghosts
in the glimmers.

Enjoy the reads.

*****

For more of my books, look here.

My most recent release is Hilda’s Inn. Hildaebookcover2015finished

Sword and Sorcery

Hilda isn’t prepared for the damage and chaos caused by a dragon, black mage, and elementals. And a very angry Lord Barton.

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Smoke & Mirrors – promotion

Smoke & MirrorsA few years ago, one of my writing sites decided to add a new category– flash fiction. I was working on my short stories and novels, but I had never thought of writing a story of this size.

It takes quite a bit of finesse. Okay, a lot of finesse. Some of these stories could have gone to two thousand words or more. However, I learned something about making a story interesting in only a few words.

This ebook containing my flashes and shorts is a book about monsters under the bed, who need healthcare, human-seeming monsters, and gargoyles who protect humans from evil.

Smoke & Mirrors

There is an underworld that normals do not see with their eyes. They have lost the terror and the wonder that they once knew as children.

In this short story collection there are eleven stories and one bonus story of ghosts, goblins, ghouls, and other nasties that live in our world. Read if you dare.

Amazon.com

Smashwords.com

An excerpt: One flash

Where Dragons Lurk

Bo rocked in his hand-made rocking chair on the porch of his fishing cabin in the center of the swamp. He came here every summer to fish and relax. The sounds of the water, the birds, the snakes, and lizards calmed him after a year of working. This was the time to get back to his roots. He spat tobacco onto the porch and watched the insects scurry away.

He reached over and picked up a lighter, which he squeezed. The fire from the lighter caught the newspaper in his hands. Bo threw the paper on the grill. It was dark under the trees. It was hard to keep cool when the humidity was this high. His wife-beater was darkened with dirt and sweat. When he came home after one of these trips, his wife would make him hose off before he could come into the house.

“You smell like a skunk,” she’d tell him and then send him into the house to take another shower. He liked having this time away from her.

Once the grill began to smoke, he put the lid over the top and listened to the chatter in the trees. He pulled out a cigar, sliced the end, and reached down for another lighter. A tight squeeze and the cigar lighted. He puffed for a moment and then threw the lighter on the growing pile at the end of his porch. Once the pile got high enough he would push the pile into the swamp so the critters could eat the dead meat.

Bo kept his secrets. His biggest secret was the nesting places of dragons. No, not the huge dragons of legend. These were about the size of a cigarette lighter and about as useful.

He reached down into his supplies and pulled out a dragon that was three or four inches long. He gave it a big squeeze and fire burst out of its mouth. Then the little critters eyes grew stony. It quit breathing. He threw it on the pile. Too bad he couldn’t market the critters. They were one use only and they took a lot of feeding to get that one burst of fire.

Bo went to grilling his steak. He needed to look for another nest so he could grill tomorrow.

The Gargoyle – Free story from Smoke & Mirrors

Stone crouched on the roof of the New York public library, still as a boulder; his eyes staring straight ahead as he observed the bodies marching down the sidewalks like ants. It always amused him that the incarnates on the ground never looked up, never smiled at each other, and never saw the world around them except for the material things they had made.

Gargoyles had been made by church men to protect churches and public buildings from evil influences. There ugly expressions scared the evil spirits that liked to eat from the essences of the embodied. In the past gargoyles were friends and even were invited to nest and to safeguard them. Now they were just legends and myths.

Stone snapped at a shadow that settled down next to him. “Why do you protect these things?” it asked him.

Stone refused to answer. He knew how tempting it was to talk to one of these spirits. They were cunning. He had talked once before and let one go. Now he regretted his action because that one became a demon and was able to hurt many incarnates.

He slowly moved his body towards the shadow so that the bodies would not see him move in their peripheral vision. Sometimes there was one who was more aware than the others.

“They are just sheep.” It said. It looked down at them, probably picking out the best one to eat from. “They are like fine wine.” Then it laughed. “Oh you don’t drink wine.”

Then it was over. The spirit was being crunched slowly in Stone’s mouth. It had a fine fresh taste of rotted flesh in a swamp. He waited for the next one to come along. There would be more. There always was.

Published in Smoke & Mirrors in 2013.