2008:

To the victor, the apple

Up until the women with the apple showed up, Tiger Prescott was enjoying what promised to be a fine summer morning in Tennessee.

Alienskin Magazine, Jun-Jul.

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2007:

The Man who eats Angels

Becky first saw the man who eats angels the night of her sixth birthday. A noise like a dog crunching chicken bones woke her. She put on her nightlight and saw him squatting in the corner. He had a small angel draped across his knees, her body limp and broken. The golden hair was faded and tangled, her eyes closed and mouth open with a small reel of drool dripping from her lip. The man had a face like a toad-bulbous, dark eyes and a wide mouth with the thickest lips she ever saw. He smiled at her, all gums and no teeth. He plucked another feather off the angel and stuffed it into his mouth.

(Received Honorable Mention in Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror 2008)

Chizine, Apr-Jun.

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Hungry Whispers

FEED US.

Mia crumpled the note in her hand and managed a weak smile for her daughter.

‘Morning, baby, you sleep okay?’ Mia turned around, taking care to hide the note beneath a magazine and busied herself with Stacy’s toast.

Stacy yawned, rubbing her eyes and taking a seat at the small kitchen table. ‘Morning, mama. I couldn’t sleep last night.’

Something Wicked #5, Nov 07 - Jan 08.

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2006:

Bridal Night

Even though the day had been mild and cheerfully sunny, still the dark of the night gave birth to the most terrible storm the people of Lammon had seen in a generation.

Nocturnal Ooze, Dec 05- Jan 06

A Job well done

Paul needed a hit, needed it badly.

Crouched behind the tombstone, he felt the cold winter wind cutting through his thin jacket and T-shirt. His ripped jeans felt icy. He only had one sock.

He curled up in a little ball, rubbing his hands and blowing on them. May as well be blowing heat into the Antarctic. His thoughts were as sour as his underwear. He supposed he should be happy that he at least still had underwear.

Nocturnal Ooze, Aug-Sept.

2005:

Those Damned Neighbours of mine

Let me say this about those damned neighbours of mine:

Sure, they stink, they’re ugly as sin; their lawn is a maze of vicious weeds with creeping, slithering things with teeth hiding in them and, yes, their house is a rundown, cluttered, filthy shack . . . but, once you get past all that - they’re really nice people.

Not like my blessed neighbours - now they are really a pain in the butt.

Alienskin Magazine, June-July.

View in a Fridge

The house was dead and dark, quiet save for the soft, monotonous whine of the computer.

Joe stubbed out his cigarette and stared at his computer screen, hoping that, by some magic, words would actually appear.

Nothing.

Nocturnal Ooze, Aug-Sept.

When Spacemen first came down

It is written, in the first Gospel of Ootseka, that the first Ooling to see the sky-men was Baboe, offspring of Taloe the three-legged.

Flash Me Magazine, Aug-Oct.

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The Ballad of Winter’s Haven

The bell rings the even hour.

Over fields coated in an endless cloak of snow the peasants trudge through a never-ending rain of snow towards the walls, the walls of Winter’s Haven.

Flash Me Magazine, Nov 05 - Jan 06.

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