Prolixity- a tendency to speak or write at great or tedious length
Walking out of his cottage, Devon knew by the sway of the branches that stumbling out on a procellous day like today was taking a chance that could have heavy consequences. Devon’s leg had not healed properly, was still very sensitive to the touch, and if he fell he was risking damaging the work the doctors had put into reconstructing his thigh after the accident. Were he a woman, he would choose to wear a Kimono to both hide the bandages and provide the loose comfort his wounds yearned for, but for now he would have to focus only on the path in front of him and nothing else. Knowing his luck he would snag the silk on a twig first thing outside and fray the precious silk anyhow.
Devon wasn’t sure why he felt like heading to Marta’s house now. She was a conversationalist with prolixity and he often wanted to leave her company only seconds after she started speaking.
Upon reaching Marta’s door, Devon cleared his throat and knocked on the heavy, wooden door. He didn’t want to show how much he wanted to see her; but he was here and would stay for a while. When Marta opened the door the first thing Devon was hit with was a strong smell of wild strawberries along with warm air of her oven. He would have to try and coax her to let him try whatever it was that she was baking. She was a fantastic chef and never haughty. Sometimes she even acted as though she had never stepped foot in a kitchen before. Devon was hoping the perilous walk here would be worth it!
Billie knew what the expectation was but she didn’t know if she could go through with it. Becoming someone’s mistress, whether congenial and without sexual motive or not, was not what she had planned for her life moving forward. The problem was, Billie didn’t know how to get along in a new city without a job and no friends. This was the first time she had lived anywhere that she was a total stranger, but this was the change that she needed. Life at home had become too much; stress, bills, arguing. If no one knew where she was and no one here knew who she was, maybe she could start fresh and live her life the way she wanted to.
We walked out to the coop. The heater had been left on for the chickens but with the winds making it feel like 10 below zero, the heater almost was a waste. I tried the door. Frozen shut. This was when I had to trudge back to the garage and look for any metal item I could get to jam in the door and pry it open.
With the door finally pried open, the darkness hid the hens. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw that no hens had perished in the cold, they huddled together to keep warm and alive. I moved to fill their feed bin with food and turned to check the water. The galvanized waterer was situated on a hot plate to supposedly keep the water from freezing. I suppose it worked because there was water in the trough for them, except that was frozen from the cold air. This was my only issue with keeping the flock, keeping water defrosted in winter.
We knew mom had gotten into the apartment the minute we saw our mural. All the work we had done, now covered by her image and her famous saying. Did she ever want us to grow up or move on? Billy and I decided after we graduated college that it was time to find our own place. Being twins didn’t mean we had to live together, it was just how life went. Mom was a wreck though. She cried about losing her boys and what would we do if we needed her? Would we have time to make good meals and clean up after ourselves? When it came down to it she wanted her twins to remain toddlers, listening to their mommy with awe and fascination again. Poor mom, she must be really upset to come paint herself on our wall!
Miller walked around aimlessly, searching for the key, the key that would unlock the truth. He was tired of the darkness, tired of the feeling of empty sockets where his eyes once were. Where in this darkness was the tissue, the tissue that held the DNA to rebuild his eyes, make him a member of the “seeing” world? No one had an explanation, maybe that is why Miller felt he had to keep searching. In the darkness, Miller continued, listening to the familiar creak and groan of the old floorboards in his now dark home.
1. Why is a Pantomime thus called? What else would you call the creepy guys clothing choice? 2. Why was the White Rabbit late? It was waiting for a white Christmas 3. What happened when Aladdin rubbed the lamp for the first time? Ew, that’s gross and awfully private. Why does he call it a lamp anyhow? 4. How many ugly sisters were there? I really only have one if I had to say “ugly”. 5. What did Jack exchange for the magic beans? A lot of gas! 6. Why do they always shout ‘It’s behind you!!’ Because if it was in front of you you would see it. 7. What was the house in the woods made of that Hansel and Gretel found? Um, wood. 8. Who owned The Mirror Mirror on the wall? Probably the store the store before the customer the customer 9. What was the name of Dick Whittington’s cat? No, that’s what he called his wife when they argued! 10. Who was Tinkerbell? The guy who fixed the bell in the belltower, a tinkerer of sorts.
We are thrilled to share this amazing new novel by K.T. Rose! The Haunting of Gallagher Hotel just proves that ghost stories are perfect any time of the year!
Read on for an exclusive peek and an amazing giveaway to enter!
The Haunting of Gallagher Hotel
Publication Date: November 5th, 2020
Genre: Supernatural Horror/ Paranormal
Pride and greed infect the soul, anchoring the dead to Gallagher Hotel.
When Chris, a master thief, and Riley, a contract waitress, get mysterious invites to an exclusive party at the haunted Gallagher Hotel, they discover that there is more at play than simple celebrations.
Hidden truths are revealed, and all hell breaks loose. But the “party” has just begun.
Now, Chris and Riley face their demons as they fight to survive a hellish nightmare full of spoiled secrets, carnage, and vengeful spirits lost to the hotel dating back to the turn of the 20th century.
Will they survive the night? Or will their souls be devoured by the most haunted building in Michigan?
K.T. Rose is a horror, thriller, and dark fiction writer from Detroit, Michigan. She posts suspense and horror flash fiction on her blog at kyrobooks.com and is the author of a suspenseful short story series titled Trinity of Horror, an erotic thriller novel titled When We Swing, and A Dark Web Horror Series. She also writes supernatural and paranormal horror novels and short stories.
The book is in the Kindle Unlimited program as well.
She’ll never forget the day she died.
Torches lit up the town square, illuminating scowling and shouting faces. The townspeople launched stones and spit, pegging Trudy’s arms and face as she trudged through the abhorrent mob. She cringed when a pebble struck her cheek. Pain erupted, shooting through her face like lightning striking the earth.
Deputy Hill yanked her arm, leading her through the narrow path the townspeople created. Fists balled, Trudy groaned as the rope around her wrists dug into her skin. Her bare feet picked up glass shards and debris from the cobblestone path as she shuffled along.
She glared around at the angry faces and recognized the men, women, and children of Holloway. She’d done more for them than any God before her. Many of those people owned the very businesses that lined the stone slab she marched across that night. Building and financing the rows of wooden businesses lining the town’s square accounted for half the things she’d done for Holloway. She fed the hungry, made clothes for cold children, and taught woman’s independence. The ever-growing list of the townspeople’s wants was endless. At one point, she didn’t mind the busy work. Fulfilling dreams of the once poor town kept her boisterous and distracted from her bitter reality. Trudy was Holloway’s personal shepherd, making the people her needy sheep.
Hands snagged at her lavender tea gown, adding dirty prints to the blood drops and grime from the beatings in that putrid cell. She glared at the bare-faced man towering over her. The brim of his deputy hat cast a thick shadow, hiding his dark eyes and pale face.
Deputy would miss her. She was sure of it. He got off on the assaults that bruised her face. His heavy fists pounded her bones and scraped her skin until she confessed. And even after her confession, he continued with his evening visits, slamming her body into cinder block walls and passing off open-handed blows to her nose, cheeks, and eyes.
Trudy sighed. A bath with lavender and Epsom salt sounded good for the swelling. She didn’t realize how bloated and purple her once beautiful, fairly smooth skin had become until she passed by the picture window in front of the town’s jail just before they began her walk of shame. Her dark hair matted to her forehead, washed by sweat and blood. Her plump lips were chapped and bloated with bruises.
Even then, her face pulsed with intense hurt. Pain shot through it whenever she winced.
The sea of convictions roared, growing louder as she drew closer to the opposite end of the square.
“Adulterer,” yelled a woman.
“Traitor,” screeched a boy.
“Murderer,” said a pot-bellied man.
Their accusations sent a sickening jolt through her bones. She watched the path underneath her slowing feet, fighting back the tears.
The Melter War has left the Earth’s surface devastated, leaving humanity to survive on what little land is left between the Scorch Zones and the rising oceans, where towering subscrapers dot the dystopian shore lines.
Bobbie Chan is a doctor caring for the ultra-elderly in one such subscraper when she notices a mysterious, new disease afflicting her patients; some show signs of age reversal before a catastrophic, and often fatal, cardiac arrest strikes.
Bobbie begins to wonder if she is witnessing a bio weapon in full force. A Melter attack? Are they destined to finish the war they started?
Bobbie begins a race against time to rescue the Rejuvenees and uncover their true enemy
Byddi Lee grew up in Armagh and moved to Belfast to study at Queen’s University. She has since lived in South Africa, Canada, California and Paris before returning to live in her hometown, Armagh.
Her Rejuvenation Trilogy, is published by Castrum Press and Rejuvenation Book One, Book Two and Book Three all available now. Book One is also out in audiobook.
She has published flash fiction, short stories and, in 2014, her novel, March to November. Byddi has also co-written the play IMPACT – Armagh’s Train Disaster with Malachi Kelly and Tim Hanna. IMPACT was directed by Margey Quinn and staged by the Armagh Theatre Group in the Abbey Lane Theatre June 2019.
During the COVID 19 pandemic when all theatres were closed, Byddi teamed up with Malachi and Tim to write Zoomeo & Juliet and Social Bubble Toil & Trouble suitable for live performance delivered through Zoom, produced by Margery Quinn and performed by the Armagh Theatre Group.
Byddi is a co-founder of the spoken word event Flash Fiction Armagh and is co-editor of The Bramley – An Anthology of Flash Fiction Armagh.
Sign up to Byddi’s newletter for more details of release dates.