While you are enjoying the writer side of me and my podcasts, you might consider supporting me in very inexpensive AND FUN ways by visiting my music site. Buy a song for your ipod or better yet, get a ringtone of me playing! Please visit http://www.reverbnation.com/store/store/artist_1800587?item_type=music The more I earn as a musician (my day job) the more I can afford to keep scaring you with stories at night!
It’s October first and that means its the kick off to the scariest (at least commercially) month of the year. But in Pagan beliefs, the walls between the “other side” and our world grow thin in the month of October. Native Americans leave out tobacco and bowls of water as offerings to any relatives who might be “passing thru” from one world to the other. The Norse used this time of year to remember and honor their dead.
This will be my first October in a house of my own in quite a few years. My kids are now grown but we still enjoy the holiday. So which is better, carving pumpkins or roasting and eating the seeds? Telling ghost stories or watching scary movies?
I always find a horror related book that is off the beaten path to read around Halloween. Ok. Let’s face it, I read horror year round. I just finished Karen Warren’s, “The Grinding House”. It’s a novella and well worth checking out this new Australian horror author as she perceives the outback and a small band of families dealing with a pandemic. Then I re-read the classic, “The Stand” by Steven King. I hadn’t read it since my college days and reading it eighteen years later, I have to say it still made me sleep a few nights with the hall light on. Now I’m on to something new. I just got “666 Boulevard” on my ibooks to read.
I had heard it was being made into a television series and the thought intrigued me. Not a movie but a tv series? It’s written from the perspective of our main female character who falls madly in love in Paris with an American art dealer. Their whirlwind romance lands her married and dripping in money. The catch is that her mother in law in, quite literally, the devil. I’ve not finished the book yet, but the concept has enough tongue and cheek humor to keep me interested.
If you have a Halloween or horror related read you would like to recommend, please send me the info and where I can find it to me at firstname.lastname@example.org
By Michele Roger
At first introduction, Levy’s new album “Nero’s Lyre” may have seemed a bit simplistic to the average ear. Upon listening carefully, this harp composer’s versatility became brilliantly evident. “Nero’s Lyre” is a sampler platter of what a small harp can be, if in the hands of a talented musician.
Appropriately, the album began with “Ode to Ancient Rome” ; the foundation of the CD showcasing the expected and the well known music of the small ancient instrument. Harp music connoisseurs appreciated it for its classic framework of crescendos and its diatonic movements. More so was the excitement that harp and music therapists derived from this composition and its transition from rhythmic to non-rhythmic styles within the same theme. It was a very good example of what is absolutely right in a “music to better the body” kind of scenario. From this base song, steeped in the realms of traditional music, Levy leaped from the precipice and into uncharted harp territory.
“Wisdom of Minerva” was raw and edgy. It could be just as easily played at an outdoor electronic music festival as on a CD celebrating one of history’s oldest cultures. Levy slides up and down the metal strings instead of across, producing a sound that resembled the modern electric guitar with a sound effects pedal. The song was one part Jimmy Hendrix (if he had played a harp) and one part Florence and the Machine.
The theme of “electronic sans the electricity” sound continued over into “Dark Realms of Pluto” but with more of a classical music theme interwoven into its main movement. True to its title, it propels the listener into other wordly states much like a Ridley Scott science fiction film. This track seemed a peek into the composer’s mind where thoughts of deep space, far reaching into the future comes with a warning of the loneliness and melancholy.
Ending the album was what would seem Levy’s interpretation of an old time Roman drinking song in the form of “Libation to Laetitia”. Lively, catchy and all around a happy tune, Levy’s final track on the album leaves the listener with a glimpse into a night of a little too much indulgence. It is left to the listener’s discretion or imagination to decide if such inspiration comes from a heavenly or an earthly goddess.
No matter which it may be, Michael Levy’s “Nero’s Lyre” is worth a listen and a purchase. It’s exceptional variety compliments quiet conversation at your next dinner party or a relaxing candle light bath once all the guests have left. It is a good album for the avid harp music collector as well as an excellent introductory album.
Nero’s Lyre can be found at http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/neros-lyre-lament-for-solo/id545685650
Each woman was given a holiday, an item and a place in which their scary story had to take place. Me? From the hat a drew Columbus Day, a walkie talkie and a mainframe. How could I create horror with such mundane items you ask? Well, go to www.horroraddicts.net, listen to the FREE podcasted stories and VOTE for your favorite!!!
Thanks to Kalssik Hype Magazine, a Detroit music publication for the interview about Detroit artists who cross genres to make new sounds and opportunities for themselves. You can find the interview and a whole lot of talented folks who reside in the Detroit area by visiting www.klassikhypemagazine.com
Feed back is ALWAYS appreciated!!
Not for the faint of heart, this bit of flash fiction was intended to go into the “Calvalclade of Terror” anthology. But music concerts and being away kept me from making the deadline (I need a personal assistant it would appear). So, since I’ve spent a year shopping this around, I thought I’d offer it here as a summer freebie to my readers. It is not office or child safe!!!!!
by Michele Roger
It wasn’t long before Kanji could no longer resist the delicious temptation that was boxed up neatly and perfectly in Dr. Lewis’ Lexus. He shifted his weight from one clawed foot to the other while watching the woman from high up in the white pine. The branches cracked and popped under the weight of the falling, freezing rain. Kanji’s hunger and blood lust were enough to drive him to less than discreet measures. His master had been starving him in an act of control, or so he thought angrily. It was a trick that all the masters used; starving their familiars until they crumbled and begged for their food. Kanji was better than that. He had held out and escaped. Now the forest and the nearby school would be his banquet; starting with the woman in the car.
Since Kanji hadn’t been allowed to hunt in months, he was willing to go to less discreet measures. He didn’t even intend to move the car. He would have her, feast on her and then leave her remains for the police to investigate. With any luck, his master would somehow be implicated in the death of the woman. Subtle clues might lead to sweet revenge for his cruelty. The thought alone made him run his forked tongue over his jagged teeth. His yellow eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the thought of his master being afraid. Inspired by the perfect set of circumstances before him, Kanji jumped from limb to limb and began to stalk his prey.
Mrs. Brady was rendered speechless mid-cell phone conversation as she watched the driver’s side window slowly roll itself down. While the car had been running to keep the heat going, there was no way the driver window was being activated from inside the front seat console. Mrs. Brady sat in the passenger side; intrigued and annoyed. Ice and wind were blowing into the front seat. Trees were groaning and cracking making her uneasy. She cursed to herself, wondering why Dr. Lewis was taking so long. She considered driving back into town, then thought better of it as she remembered the ice covered roads. As the relentless wind drove freezing rain into the warm interior of the Lexus, Mrs. Brady tried to close the window.
Kanji listened as she fruitlessly tried to roll the window up from the control panel on the passenger side. He held the wires to the downed window in his claws under the car severing the electrical connection. He listened as she told the person on the other end of the cell phone conversation good-bye. There was something wrong with her car, she said. She sounded annoyed. He heard the phone beep twice and then she cursed. It was difficult not to laugh but his anticipation was keeping him in complete control.
Mrs. Brady lifted the center console; pushing it up to a ninety degree angle so that she could crawl on her hands and knees across to the driver’s side door. She tried to roll the window up, but to no avail. In vain, she pushed the shiny silver button up toward the window icon on the panel dozens of times. The window did not go up. It didn’t even budge. Ice was forming a thick layer as it fell on the metal frame of the open driver’s side outer door and handle. Kanji could hear Mrs. Brady blow warm air into her hands as the wind nipped at her fingers. Thinking that perhaps some of the ice from the storm had somehow lodged itself into the window track, Mrs. Brady crawled a little farther and examined the inside frame of the window. Kanji quivered with delight. She was almost where he wanted her.
Mrs. Brady had always prided herself in being a bit of a problem solver and a clear thinking, logical sort of woman. With no obvious answer to her problem in the window track, she continued by examining the outside of the car door handle. To get a better look, Mrs. Brady stuck her head out of the window. Like lightning, Kanji struck. He pressed the wires together firmly and the window reacted instantly. Before she could move out of the way, Mrs. Brady’s head was trapped outside of the car while the rising window left her gasping slightly for air. As the window had risen up, it had caught her neck in between the glass of the window and the car’s frozen metal frame. The cold frame went from cold to a burning sensation of Mrs. Brady’s neck.
The woman fought wildly to set herself free, but her chin and mandible bones stopped her from going any farther inside the Lexus. She tried to push herself out but found her shoulders were too wide to break free. She pounded her fists against the glass in some desperate act to break it, but she wasn’t strong enough. Kanji watched as the woman pushed and pulled, twisted her body left and then right, trying to get the glass below her neck to retract. She screamed for help. She suddenly stopped moving and listened. All she heard was deafening silence broken only by the crackling of breaking tree branches, the patter of freezing rain on ice and the sound of cars way off in the distance near highway 94.
From behind her, there was a huge burst of freezing cold air. She pressed her hands against the roof of the Lexus in hopes of turning her head around look behind her. She knew that someone was in the car. She tried to talk to whomever had just entered the passenger side, her but there was no answer. “Help, I’m stuck” she yelled. “And I’m freezing out here!. Roll down the window!” She tried to peer around again in frustration if only to make eye contact with her fellow passenger, but it only made the window cut a little deeper into her neck. She coughed and felt her gag reflex kick in. It made her panic and she lifted her hand to her chest.
Without warning, pain seared across her shoulders as Kanji grabbed both of her wrists and tied them behind the small of her back. Mrs. Brady tried to break free from the iron, leathery skinned grip that held her hands as duct tape crushed her wrist bones together. She retaliated again but this time, found a reason to stop instantly. For every kick and scream, the window rose just an increment higher. Mrs. Brady gasped. “I can’t breathe” she stammered. “I can’t breathe!” she said again with earnest. When she had remained still for nearly a minute, Kanji rewarded her with a millimeter of oxygen; dropping the window a fraction. He listened as she filled her lungs with freezing cold air and coughed again. The monster found it to his liking.
Kanji slowly untied the bottoms from Mrs. Brady’s nurses scrubs uniform. Again, she fought in protest, screaming for help in the black of night and storm. To control her, Kanji raised the window in an excruciating increment upwards. She began to gasp and her body surrendered. He could hear the woman begin to cry and it was enough to send his monster senses into over drive. There was nothing more sensuous than surrender and he took full advantage. Being a fully functional, albeit genetically modified member of the reptilian species, he forced himself into her, all the while listening to her beg for him to stop and scream. It only encouraged him. His power lust was in full drive and the louder she cried for help, the longer he prolonged her agony.
As his pace quickened, the monster dug his claws into her dangling breasts, tearing intently at her nipples. Soon he was overcome with pleasure as the scent of her blood filled his nostrils as her life essence ran down through his claws. He threw his head back and plunged his teeth into middle of her back, drinking in her blood as he raped to screaming woman. The blood was sweet and he found it profoundly to his liking. He would kill her slowly so as to have the assistance of her pumping heart to send the thick honey like delight to his mouth.
When he had finished with her sexually, he realized that her bonds kept Mrs. Brady trapped in a dog like position on her knees. Taking advantage of her vulnerability, Kanji lay under her body and rested. He positioned himself directly under her bleeding breasts and sipped from them much like a Greek god indulging in the grapes of his slave. He took a sharp claw and tore open her blouse. From this angle, he could make his choice cuts much like a butcher to a lamb. Since her head was stuck out in the cold, he would have to skip the sweet and tender meat of her cheeks; a delicacy of all mammals but he was far too comfortable in the leather seat of the Lexus to be bothered to go out into the freezing rain.
Instead, he feasted on her thick layer of curvaceous belly fat while his claws sunk into her buttocks to hold her still. The fat had a sweet, salty taste, much like that of a seal. Working his way down her torso, he drank deeply from between her thighs; smeared in blood from his violent plunge. Finally, returned to the driver’s seat where he bit into each of her breasts; first the right and then the left which lay directly over her pumping heart. Tearing meat and fat from the bone, he drank her blood that poured into his mouth until his stomach was puffed and he had to belch from the feasting. He sleepily tucked in to watch his favorite part of devouring prey; the death throws.
Being eaten alive, slowly, the heart was the last to die. Lacking blood, the heart ever so slightly came to its decrescendo and then complete stop. He knew Mrs. Brady was dead when a death rattle erupted from the woman’s throat. Kanji was full and his every desire satisfied. In monster terms, he had reached Nirvana. He climbed into the plush back seat of the Lexus and fell asleep; lulled by the pattering of rain on frozen ground.
My short story, “Prey” is a very dark, monster erotica tale being released in the new anthology, “Calvalcade of Terror” by Undead Press. Get your copy at: http://www.amazon.com/Cavalcade-Terror-A-Horror-Anthology/dp/161199053X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335713923&sr=8-1