HorrorAddicts.net Press presents ‘Clockwork Wonderland’ – A #horror #anthology @EmzBox

HorrorAddicts.net Press presents…Clockwork Wonderland

Clockwork Wonderland contains stories from authors that see Wonderland as a place of horror where anything can happen and time runs amok. In this book you’ll find tales of murderous clockworks, insane creations, serial killers, zombies, and a blood thirsty jabberclocky. Prepare to see Wonderland as a place where all your worst nightmares come true. You may never look at classic children’s literature the same way again.

Edited by Emerian Rich
Cover by Carmen Masloski
Featuring authors:

Trinity Adler
Ezra Barany
Jaap Boekestein
Dustin Coffman
Stephanie Ellis
Jonathan Fortin
Laurel Anne Hill
N. McGuire
Jeremy Megargee
James Pyne
Michele Roger
H.E. Roulo
Sumiko Saulson
K.L. Wallis

With Foreword by David Watson


Available on Amazon!

Hatter’s Warning by Emerian Rich

Starting off with a poem from the Mad Hatter who warns us, our time is running out and Alice the queen of Wonderland is after our heads and our souls.

Jabberclocky by Jonathan Fortin

A drunken clock repair shop owner and his abused son receive a visit form the Mad Hatter who has an evil plan to bring a murderous Jaberclock to life. Only the Cheshire Cat can save the day or is he as mad as the Hatter?

Hands of Time by Stephanie Ellis

The Queen of Heart’s executioner and timekeeper are looking for an apprentice and a new set of hands to kill and kill again to run the queen’s clock.

Clockwork Justice by Trinity Adler

With only one day and two clues, a bloody torn card and carrot tarts, Alice fights to prove she’s innocent and avoid losing her head to the Red Queen’s executioner.

My Clockwork Valentine by Sumiko Saulson

Unlike the White Rabbit, Blanche Lapin does not carry her timepiece in her pocket, but in her chest. It’s a Victorian-era clockwork pacemaker and if it’s not wound every forty-eight hours, she will die. When the key is stolen, the thief who has it will let her die if she doesn’t declare her love and stay with him forever.

Blood will Have Blood by James Pyne

There are many Wonderlands and a young woman is trapped in one where she is expected to be the new Alice. It’s a place where the rivers are filled with corpses and that’s not even the worst of it. The only way out is by wearing a clock necklace that needs blood for fuel, but what happens if it runs out?

Midnight Dance by Emerian Rich

Wonderland is being overrun by zombies. Mr. Marsh and The Mad Hatter are in a race against time to jam up the clockmaker’s clock and stop the undead apocalypse. If they can’t the apocalypse will start over and over as the clock strikes one.

A Room for Alice by Ezra Barany

When Alice is locked in a blood-splattered room and poisoned by D, she must behead the Queen of Spades within fifteen minutes in order to get the antidote. Can Tweedle help, or is he part of the problem?

Frayed Ears by H.E. Roulo

Caught in a child’s fever-fueled dream, The White Rabbit, The Scarecrow, and other storybook characters soon discover that story time is coming to an end and maybe so are they.

King of Hearts by Dustin Coffman

A prequel story to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, this tale explains how the Queen became mad, and why she hates the name Alice so much, though it has nothing to do with the real one.

Riddle by N. McGuire

A steampunk take on the infamous tea party, with a killer twist.

Tick Tock by Jaap Boekestein

To hear him tell it, a heroic wild card fights against the usurper Alice and puts Mary—the true Queen Of Hearts—on Watch World’s throne. Is that what’s really going on?

Gone a’ Hunting by Laurel Anne Hill

Alease goes rabbit hunting, but she’s the one caught in a place where she will have plenty of time to think about what she’s done.

The Note by Jeremy Megargee

Cheshire Cat tells a story about the changing, horrifying world of Wonderland and why he has to leave it.

Half Past by K.L. Wallis

A woman follows a mysterious man though the subway and travels back in time to the late 1800s, where she finds that instead of the patriarchal norms of the past, she is in a Wonderland where women are the superior sex and moral boundaries cease to exist.

Ticking Heart by Michele Roger

A woman on a train goes to visit Alice in a war-torn steampunk Wonderland, which is very different than the one we know.

To read the full story and more Clock-inspired, Alice Horror, check out Clockwork Wonderland.

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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Rie Sheridan Rose @RieSheridanRose @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror

ime Flies
by Rei Sheridan Rose

This is going to sound mad. Don’t think you’re going to surprise me with your skepticism…but I have to tell the truth—before it’s too late.
At night, in the dead time between midnight and dawn, time flies.
You are thinking, “Are you crazy? That’s the longest time ever…it plods like it is wearing steel boots.”
But I don’t mean it goes quickly. I mean it literally goes walk-about. It flies off the clocks…all the numbers scampering off to have adventures, but always back by five, when the maids begin their duties.
I’ve seen the empty clock-faces—blank white circles with useless hands. I fear the hours will stay out one night…never come home to roost respectably.
Where will we be if time has suddenly gone missing?
Fiction © Copyright Rei Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com


About Author Rei Sheridan Rose:

Rie Sheridan Rose multitasks. A lot. Her short stories appear in numerous anthologies, including Nightmare Stalkers and Dream Walkers Vols. 1 and 2, and Killing It Softly. She has authored eight novels, six poetry chapbooks, and lyrics for dozens of songs.

More info on www.riewriter.com. She tweets as @RieSheridanRose



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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Lori Safranek @SafranekLori @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror

She Was Lovely
by Lori Safranek

The man occupying the next bar stool nudged Charlie and pointed at the tiny television over the bar. The news was talking about a skeleton found a few months ago in the city’s north side. No clues to its identity were found.
“Never have understood those artist reconstructions.” He slurred the last word as he finished the sentence with a slug from his cocktail. “They’re a waste of time. You know they don’t look like the poor bitch whose skull it is.”
The drunk chuckled and shook his head. Charlie glanced at him and sighed. He hated bar chit-chat.
“Is that right?” he muttered, trying to be polite but not encouraging.
“Oh, yeah,” the drunk waved the hand with his glass in it wildly. “You wait, when they identify the woman, she won’t look nothing like that drawing. Count on it.”
He upended the rest of the drink into his mouth and swallowed it, slamming the glass on the bar and motioning to the bartender for a refill.
He leaned closer to Charlie.
“I pay attention, mister,” he said, lowering his voice. “I follow the news. They find a skeleton, they get the artist to draw something like that . . . “ he waved his arm at the TV again. “. . . And if–and that’s a fucking big IF–they identify the body, it NEVER looks like the sketch. The sketch usually looks more like something out of high school art class.”
He laughed loudly and looked with surprise at his new drink that the bartender had placed in front of him. The short, squat glass was filled with clear ice cubes and an amber liquid that caught the neon lights of the dive bar. He smiled and took a sip, smacking his lips. He wore a tired looking gray suit and a white shirt that had seen better days. His tie, if he’d worn one, was gone and his hair was tumbled and oily. Hard day at the office, Charlie guessed.
Charlie knew he should ignore the drunk but he couldn’t resist.
“So you follow the crime news, eh?”
The man turned toward him and nodded. “Indeed I do. It’s fascinating, if you ask me.”
Charlie shrugged.
“I don’t know, man, it’s kind of depressing,” he said.
The other man laughed. “Depressing? Hey, if it’s not you they find in a shallow grave out in the boondocks, why be depressed? Huh?”
Charlie looked at him. The man was smiling and he nudged Charlie. “Huh? Better him than me, right?”
Charlie smiled. “I guess so.”
He turned back to his beer. He’d come in here to kill time until he’d meet his wife for dinner. He should have known, after the day he’d had, he would end up next to a friendly drunk, Charlie’s least favorite bar person. He should finish up his beer and move on.
The drunk slurped some more alcohol. Charlie could tell he wasn’t done talking.
“The cops go about it all wrong, man,” the drunk said. He nodded exaggeratedly, pointing again at the television, which was now showing a game show and had nothing to do with cops or murder.
“Is that right?” Charlie said.
“Yeah, they put up that stupid sketch, everyone’s trying to remember who that woman is, the woman in the sketch,” the drunk said. “But see, they can’t remember, because that’s not her! Shit, she’s nothing like that! And it’s hilarious! Fucking cops think they’re so smart.”
Charlie frowned.
“That’s kind of harsh, man,” he said. “That’s someone’s family.”
The drunk looked in his eyes and blinked a couple times.
“Someone’s family? Oh, the woman? Yeah, that’s too bad, I know,” he said. “But then again, she’s been dead a while. Now it’s just bones.”
Charlie shook his head and decided to order another beer. He still had a half-hour to kill.
Charlie couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“So, what do you think she really looked like, since you’ve been following the case?”
The drunk smiled crookedly. “Oh, I know exactly what she looked like,” he picked up his cocktail and studied the ice for a minute. His face softened. “She was lovely. When she was alive, before she died.”
Charlie let the words sink in.
“You mean, you think she was lovely. Or do you know who she was?”
The drunk snorted a laugh and set his glass down. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph.
He slid the photo face down toward Charlie. He leaned closer to his new confidante.
“Wait until I leave, my friend, and then you’ll know what she looked like, too,” he said.
He dropped a twenty on the bar, clapped Charlie on the shoulder like a long-time friend and staggered out the door.
Charlie stared at the photo without touching it, reading the words “Number three” written in blue ink on the back. Charlie never followed the news. He did know, however, that the artist’s sketch he’d just seen was one of a series of dead women found in the same area, all killed the same way.
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet to retrieve a ten-dollar bill. He dropped it next to the drunk’s twenty. Then he rose from his bar stool, backed away from the bar and left.
The bartender was pleased with the generous tips and swept the photograph into the trashcan next to the sink.
Fiction © Copyright Lori Safranek
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com


About Author Lori Safranek:

Lori Safranek has a degree in journalism and was a newspaper reporter in her home state of Nebraska. Now she writes horror stories and has been published in horror anthologies by publishers such as Sirens Call Publications, Angelic Knight Publications, James Ward Kirk Publications and Scarlett Galleon Publications. She also self-published Freakshow: The Complete Freaked Out Series.

Lori’s Amazon Author Page


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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Marge Simon @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror

Kiamat: The Poem at the End of the World
by Marge Simon

Composing his last poem, the poet walks the beach at the end of the world.  His lover lags behind, hugging a leather bag. The churning waves are black, heavy with death. Every so often, he pauses for his lover to catch up. She follows, picking up shells which she places in the bag. She is bent nearly double with the burden, but still she persists,
Just after sunset, the poet and his lover come upon a cage. There are two strange creatures within. They appear content to move about, soundless as shadows. Hunkering down, the poet inscribes his words in the sand beneath the cage.  His lover covers them with the contents of her bag.
“Your poem, these shells, are the business of the sea; they are no longer yours or mine.” This is all there is to be said. He takes her hand and they turn to face the horizon. High above, an albatross circles. A terrible storm is brewing.
Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com


About Author Marge Simon:

Marge Simon lives in Ocala, Florida and is married to Bruce Boston. She edits a column for the HWA Newsletter, “Blood & Spades: Poets of the Dark Side,” and serves as Chair of the Board of Trustees.  She won the Strange Horizons Readers Choice Award, 2010, the SFPA’s Dwarf Stars Award, 2012, and the Elgin Award for best poetry collection, 2015. She has won the Bram Stoker Award ® for Poetry, the Rhysling Award and the Grand Master Award from the SF Poetry Association, 2015.  Marge also has work in the anthology Scary Out There, a story and poems in YOU, HUMAN and fiction in Chiral Mad 4, 2017, Dark Regions Press.

Visit Marge at: www.margesimon.com


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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author H.R. Boldwood @SuzieNBruce2 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror

The Beast in the Woods
by H.R. Boldwood

Time is the beast in the wood, ever present in sun or cloud, never thwarted by wealth or circumstance.
It hides beneath life’s veil, nipping at our heels while we walk our fated paths. Its stealthy hands steal our moments one by one, claiming every hour, chiming at the apex, then hurling onward, swallowing our seconds like black holes swallow stars.
It gathers momentum in its constant orb, and the veil of life grows dim. The beast no longer hides. We sense it drawing near. We feel it in our bones. Fear drives us blindly into flight, hoping to escape its wrath, but all for naught.
Because time is the beast in the wood, ever present in sun or cloud, never thwarted by wealth or circumstance.
Fiction © Copyright H.R. Boldwood
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com


About Author H.R. Boldwood:

H.R. Boldwood is a writer of horror and speculative fiction. In another incarnation, Boldwood is a Pushcart Prize nominee and was awarded the 2009 Bilbo Award for creative writing by Thomas More College. Publication credits include, “Killing it Softly”, “Short Story America”, “Bete Noir”, “Everyday Fiction”, “Toys in the Attic”, “Floppy Shoes Apocalypse II”, “Pilcrow and Dagger”, “Quickfic”, and “Sirens Call”.
Future publications include, ‘In the Shadow of Fire’ which will be appearing in the anthology “Saturnalia,” published by Hyperion and Theia in late 2017, and ‘The Idlewild Letters’ which will appear in Killing It Softly 2, expected October, 2017.
Boldwood’s characters are often disreputable and not to be trusted. They are kicked to the curb at every conceivable opportunity. No responsibility is taken by this author for the dastardly and sometimes criminal acts committed by this ragtag group of miscreants.
Watch for Boldwood’s upcoming website at: www.hrboldwood.com.

Amazon Author Central page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01LWY22MD



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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Stacey Turner @Spot_Speaks @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror

The Reading Chair
by Stacey Turner

Rachel’s Nana died when she was ten. Nana had been the only stable thing in her short life, so losing her felt much like the end of the world. The only comfort she could find was in Nana’s reading chair. She begged her mother until they moved it into their cramped trailer where, even outdated, it looked regal compared to the other furnishings. No cigarette burns, no broken springs, and it retained the faint scent of Nana’s house. Rachel took refuge in the chair, where she could curl up with a book, press her face to the cushion, and escape.
 “The Reading Chair is always there,” became the mantra that got her through her days. At the end of every day, every desolate episode of Rachel’s life, the chair sat in its spot, the corner of the living room, waiting to enfold her, to comfort. Her ownership was never disputed. The ever changing stream of her mother’s boyfriends seemed to avoid Rachel’s chair, as though they sensed it was intrinsically hers. All of them, that is, until Arthur.
Arthur lacked any kind of intuition, any tidbit of self-preservation swallowed up by his enormous ego. After three weeks of teasing her to the point of tears, then taunting her with threats of violence, Arthur finally crossed the line. He backhanded her as soon as she’d shut the front door and she went down hard, hitting her head as she fell. Through bleary eyes, she watched him laugh. “The reading chair is always there,” she whispered to herself, focusing her gaze.
“Do you hear yourself?” Arthur asked, hands on his hips. “What is with you and that fucking chair anyway? You going to hide out there for the rest of your damn life? Make me and your mama support you while you read your life away?” She continued repeating the mantra quietly to herself. “Fuck this,” Arthur gave her a lazy kick. “It’s a chair. See?”
“Don’t!” she cried as he turned his back and settled his ass on the edge of her chair. Rachel was never sure exactly what happened afterwards as she shut her eyes tightly the moment he started to sit, not wanting to watch him claim her only safe space. When she opened her eyes, the reading chair was still there, but Arthur was not. Nor was he ever seen again.
Fiction © Copyright Stacey Turner
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com


About Author Stacey Turner:

Stacey Turner lives in West Central Illinois with her husband. Three wonderful, adult children call her “Mom,” and three beautiful little boys call her “Mimi” (Grandma). She is owned by cats. She spends her days writing and editing, but still finds time to review books & interview authors, as well as blog about her absolutely ridiculous family and other adventures.
She edits for Siren’s Call Publications, as well as freelance. She is the editor of several anthologies, including Final Masquerade, as well as many novels & novellas for a variety of authors. To contact her about editing, you can email her at princess.spot@gmail.com.
She has been published in several anthologies and online magazines, most recently in Morbid Metamorphosis by Lycan Valley Press. Her short story collection, The Night Air and Other Stories, is forthcoming. When not working, she enjoys photographing cemeteries, playing “what if,” and discussing the imminent zombie apocalypse. She does not enjoy scarecrows, creepy dolls, birds (of any sort), snakes, clowns, or garden gnomes.

Visit Stacey on her Amazon Author page!


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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Julianne Snow @CdnZmbiRytr @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror

Tears and Lightening
by Julianne Snow

You know she’s angry when the lightning comes. You may not be sure what you’ve done wrong, but the reverberating sound of her thunder shakes your bones, turning your knees into jelly. Wrath, like you’ve never seen destroys the world around as you quake in your hiding spot, waiting for her to find you.
Because you know she will.
Her tears hit the ground in torrents, washing away edifices and infrastructure, not caring of the destruction or the death. The closer she gets, the louder she becomes, the wail of her wind screams at you, the pitch driving you insane as it scours the surface.
With a crashing rend of triumph, she finds you, her vengeance fully directed at you now. There’s nothing you can do but submit to her will. She lifts you in her embrace, tossing you around like a rag doll, breaking you with no remorse. You fall back to the ground, tossed there like garbage, your last moments filled with the sights, sounds, and smells of her.
Mother Nature can certainly be a bitch.
Fiction © Copyright Julianne Snow
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com


About Author Julianne Snow:

Julianne Snow is the author of the Days with the Undead series and Glimpses of the Undead. She is the founder of Zombieholics Anonymous and the Co-Owner and Publicist at Sirens Call Publications. Writing in the realms of speculative fiction, Julianne has roots that go deep into horror and is a member of the Horror Writers Association. With pieces of short fiction in various publications, Julianne always has a few surprises up her sleeves.

Twitter: @CdnZmbiRytr
Facebook: Julianne Snow
FB Fan Page: Julianne Snow, Author, Days with the Undead, & Zombieholics Anonymous
Amazon Author Page: Julianne Snow
Blogs: Days with the Undead, The FlipSide of Julianne & Zombieholics Anonymous



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