August 2020 - Black Hare Press

The Many Lives of Miss Creant

August 31, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Chris Hewitt

Every young witch needs the protection of a good familiar, and Tara received hers on her fifth birthday. Miss Creant, Missy for short, was the blackest of black cats, and the duo bonded immediately. Unfortunately for Missy, her ward suffered with a terrible curse that would cost Missy four of her lives, eleven whiskers, and her right eye before Tara’s sixth birthday. Come Tara’s seventh birthday, Missy had sacrificed all her lovely black fur, an ear, and four more lives.

When the fateful day came, Missy welcomed death. Protecting the clumsiest witch in the world had been a tough gig.

Chris Hewitt

Chris resides in the beautiful garden of England, Kent, UK, and in the odd moments that he isn’t dog walking he pursues his passion for all things horror, fantasy, and science-fiction.

Blog: https://mused.blog/

Brothers

August 30, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Chris Bannor

The night rumbled its greeting as the body streaked through the atmosphere. Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder heralded its downward descent. Few who saw it would know what it was, but to the trained eye, a fallen angel was unmistakable.

Hell would not welcome such a creature, so newly lost it still reeked of the holy.

He’d fallen years ago, over something he no longer believed. He got on his motorcycle and took to the road, headed for the other. He was no longer an angel, but he would do what he could.

Even the fallen needed brothers.

Chris Bannor

Chris Bannor is a speculative fiction writer who lives in Southern California. Chris learned her love of genre stories from her mother at an early age and has never veered far from that path. You can follow Chris on Facebook: @chrisbannorauthor

Dunwich Desires

August 28, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Beth W. Patterson

“Looks aren’t everything” is sometimes the kindest thing a person feels he or she can say. Society deemed me deformed and inbred, horrified by my colour. I often walked through thunderstorms for company.

It took that special someone to desire me, but Yog-Sothoth was not the normal lover. I thought I would savour multitudinous mouths on my flesh and the sinewy strokes of limbs reaching everywhere. Sometimes being desired means instead being turned inside out and reassembled, chewed up, digested, spat out, transformed with the power to make the Old Ones flesh.

The children are growing. The hills are alive.

Beth W. Patterson

Beth W. Patterson was a full-time musician for over two decades before diving into the world of writing. She is the author of the books Mongrels and Misfits, and The Wild Harmonic, and a contributor to over thirty anthologies. Patterson has performed in nineteen countries and never sleeps.

The Darkness Ahead

August 27, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Brianna Witte

They came for me—pitchforks sharpened and torches glowing in the dead of night. I stood in front of my wood cabin, watching the townspeople march closer. Closer to the witch that had slaughtered their livestock and dried their crops with her dark, satanic magic. Closer to me—the evil they wanted to destroy.

They thought starvation was my intention: to kill them off slowly. Yet, destroying their food supply was just a tease. They had no idea what was lying in store for them.

Salem had come to burn a witch, but it was Salem that would burn instead.

Brianna Witte

Brianna is an active member of the Writers Community of Durham Region. She had received a commendation for her short story, The Hunt, in the 2019 Author of Tomorrow Award by the Wilbur and Niso Smith Foundation. To date, Brianna has had many short stories published in various anthologies.

On December 1, 2019, Brianna released her first book, Witches and Vampires, published by Atmosphere Press.

As Above, So Beneath by Joshua D. Taylor – Launches 15th September 2020

August 26, 2020/by Black Hare Press

What’s your most favourite under-appreciated novel? I’m going to say A Night in the Lonesome October by Roger Zelazny. It has its fans, we’re in FB group together, but I had never heard about it till I came across it in a bookstore.

Celestial Game

August 25, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Abi Marie Palmer

The arrow pierced the angel’s chest. Damien smirked as it plummeted towards the vast grounds of his manor. Now nobody would deny his hunting skills.

His catch plunged into the lake. Its limp husk bobbed to the surface, charred but incandescent. An exquisite specimen. When stuffed, it would look impressive in the dining hall next to the Masai lion. Now to retrieve the carcass.

The angel’s eyes snapped open. It rose above the lake with a disgruntled roar and clawed the arrow from its chest.

Damien’s servants found his body that night. It was displayed in the dining hall, stuffed.

Abi Marie Palmer

Abi Marie Palmer is a freelance proofreader and editor with an English Literature degree from Cardiff University. She is training to become a secondary school English teacher and enjoys writing in her spare time. instagram.com/abimariepalmer

TICK TOCK

August 24, 2020/by Black Hare Press

Time travel adventure stories

AVENGE

August 23, 2020/by Black Hare Press

Stories of wonder and might, evil and treachery. Join these 26 authors on their journeys to save or sell the world.

WATCH

August 22, 2020/by Black Hare Press

Stories of wonder and might, evil and treachery. Join these 26 authors on their journeys to save or sell the world.

BONES

August 21, 2020/by Black Hare Press

by Chris Hewitt

When the fateful day came, Missy welcomed death. Protecting the clumsiest witch in the world had been a tough gig.

by Chris Bannor

The night rumbled its greeting as the body streaked through the atmosphere. Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder heralded its downward descent. Few who saw it would know what it was, but to the trained eye, a fallen angel was unmistakable.

Hell would not welcome such a creature, so newly lost it still reeked of the holy.

He’d fallen years ago, over something he no longer believed. He got on his motorcycle and took to the road, headed for the other. He was no longer an angel, but he would do what he could.

Even the fallen needed brothers.

by Beth W. Patterson

“Looks aren’t everything” is sometimes the kindest thing a person feels he or she can say. Society deemed me deformed and inbred, horrified by my colour. I often walked through thunderstorms for company.

The children are growing. The hills are alive.

by Brianna Witte

They thought starvation was my intention: to kill them off slowly. Yet, destroying their food supply was just a tease. They had no idea what was lying in store for them.

Salem had come to burn a witch, but it was Salem that would burn instead.

by Abi Marie Palmer

The arrow pierced the angel’s chest. Damien smirked as it plummeted towards the vast grounds of his manor. Now nobody would deny his hunting skills.

His catch plunged into the lake. Its limp husk bobbed to the surface, charred but incandescent. An exquisite specimen. When stuffed, it would look impressive in the dining hall next to the Masai lion. Now to retrieve the carcass.

The angel’s eyes snapped open. It rose above the lake with a disgruntled roar and clawed the arrow from its chest.

Damien’s servants found his body that night. It was displayed in the dining hall, stuffed.