All Posts

Here, the cold had teeth. It bit in and never let go, never let up, never waned. It was a kind of cold that burned skin blue and whittled away at brittle bones. Unforgiving. All consuming. Airman Connor Dudley found himself so unfortunately trapped right in the middle of it. Wind whistled off the deployed emergency flaps on the silver skin of his downed ship, an eerie sound that resembled a chorus of voices the longer it droned, the more Dudley thought about it. Swathed i

(An unhinged excerpt from the VenatoriVerse) I hate realtors. Especially the ones that take that little clause in the legal verbiage that says, “disclosure of paranormal activity is not required,” and run with it. Assholes. It was all thanks to Your Home Town Realtor, Craig Mason, that I was on my merry way to deal with my third poltergeist clusterfuck at 105 Blackthistle Drive. The “secluded and private historic estate, oozing rustic charm” (that twat) had ended up right