Arya’s lonely Chevy pickup rumbled through the forest roads, the last of the autumn leaves still clinging to bare branches. She had no guides save John’s journal, filled with ink stained maps and a single name: Saint Joseph’s Cemetery.
She’d left behind no note. Who would read it? Her blind grandmother? An unconscious husband?
Besides, Arya had no time for notes, not after what she read in John’s journal.
It had to be tonight, on Hallows’ Eve.
Read the rest of “The Unmarked Headstone” on Amazon Kindle.
Welcome to October, fellow ghouls! …though it has been October for a while, hasn’t it? Anyway, this month’s story is a Amazon Kindle ebook. It includes my new story The Unmarked Headstone as well as one of my previously published works as bonus material. Check it out, and if you like it make sure to share with a fellow fiend–friend–jack-o-latern? Okay, I’m done with the lame puns for now.
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A Dog, 3 Cats, and a Dragon is now available! Read 20+ science fiction, fantasy, and horror tales in Esther Davis’s new short story collection.
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by Esther Davis
Chunks of scoria cascaded from the rising form. The ground trembled. Mina’s szajo reared, and she flung her arms around one of its curled horns to keep from falling.
“Calm, boy. Calm!” Mina’s lips trembled as she whispered in the ram’s ear.
The szajo didn’t calm. It bayed, a guttural sound that reverberated through Mina’s frame… Continue reading
by Esther Davis
Water stains and rips decorated the package cupped in her hand. A dirty string held the parchment wrapping together. No address or name, to or from. The mail dragon didn’t need words.
Neither did Emma.
Only one man would seek out the mail dragon to find Emma, hiding in the city of Trygghet.Only one man could have sent it.
Or his enemies… Continue reading
by Esther Davis
I watched the lone survivor ease back into the conscious world. Bloodied mud and scarlet-stained moss lay around him. I ran my tongue over the flesh wedged between my teeth, savoring the taste of centaur.
Sanroc rose to his hooves, staggered a moment. I probed Sanroc’s mind, searching for fear, but found none. Still dazed.
My eyes glazed over as I further submerged myself into his consciousness. I smirked at his grasping for memory. Mortals. Such feeble minds.
He’d been brought here against his will. Sanroc remembered that much. But he still didn’t see the shreds of ropes mingled with the surrounding carnage nor the dagger, forgotten, beneath the stunted, gnarled spruce.
Odan came in the night. He’d dragged Sanroc–gagged, bound, and blindfolded–from their village under the veil of the new moon. Sanroc massaged his head now, trying to pull his memory to the surface. He saw again Odan’s bitter eyes. I remembered the vengeful lust I’d lapped from his kidnappers mind.
I pulled back to my body, leaving only the smallest probe in Sanroc’s head. I dug my claws into the bark and shifted my weight to make branch groaned beneath me. Sanroc’s head snapped towards the dark trees. All at once he saw the carnage, remembered the screams, and knew I–the beast in the shadows–had devoured his “friend”… Continue reading