Suspense – One Writer Ranting

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 19

Posted on July 29, 2020July 7, 2020 by A Renfro

Kill for me. A terrifying request, but Gavin will take this request and do his best to complete it. He will suffer. He will reach the edge of his sanity. He will live in pain. But he will do all he can do to protect the people and the town he loves.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

This story is now available at these locations: books2read.com.

Some of the new locations are Apple, Nook, and Kobo.

Liam Smith, young, fit, thirty five and aging quick in his line of work, was sitting in his cubicle, surrounded by pictures of his family and trinkets his kids had made for him, when Mason Wilson walked in unannounced. Mason was thirty eight, heavy and overweight, but not so much that he couldn’t get around or chase the bad guys when the need arose. He put a map down on top of what Liam was working on.

“Can I help you?” Liam asked.

“Do you see the red circles?” Mason asked.

“Yes,” Liam replied, looking down at the map, covering his keyboard, stopping his fingers in mid type. Mason had a bad habit of doing this. Interrupting Liam when he thought something was so important that it couldn’t wait and most of the time it could.

“There’s one at the college, one over here at a Bingo hall where they recently had a big tournament, and another at this conference center.”

“I have eyes.”

“Anyway,” Mason replied, a bit annoyed. He pushed the annoyance away and continued. “Three cases just came across the wire and do you know what each of them have in common?” Liam shook his head. “The people in these cases started at these red circled areas and the only way to get home from those areas was to take this road.” He pointed at Route 6.

“What’s your point?”

“Point is, Route 6 is the link to these three disappearances.”

“Kind of a thin lead,” Liam replied, hoping to get back to his work, trying not to seem like he was trying to get Mason out of his cubicle, which he was.

“Sometimes you can’t see the frog for the pond. Don’t you see? It has to be a connection.”

Liam glanced at the Christmas tree on his desk. This was the tough part about being a Federal Agent (F.B.I.). A case could come across his desk at any minute and that case could take him away from his wife and kids for an undisclosed amount of time. And this year he wanted to be home, wanted to see their faces on Christmas morning, a morning he missed the previous year investigating the farmer who dropped his wife in a well. He hoped this current case wouldn’t take too long, but he knew it probably would. “Okay, we’ll get started tomorrow morning, but can we wrap it up by Christmas? I really want to be home this year. I’ve missed too much because of this job,” Liam replied, feeling a bit selfish putting it that way, but the truth was the truth.

“You afraid your wife might shack up with Santa.”

“Or one of his elves.”

“Promise. We’ll try to wrap it up as quickly as we can,” Mason replied and made his exit.

Liam watched him go and then turned back to the map, which was still sprawled across his desk. He figured he might as well form a game plan so they could get started as soon as possible. The quicker they started maybe the quicker they would finish. He hoped.

I recently published this novella or short story, depending on how you look at it, and I wanted to promote it. So, my brain got to thinking, and my brain came up with three ways you can enjoy this story (if you want to read it).

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review The Lot on Route 6. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Thanks again for all the support. I promise Poetry and Haiku as much as I can, but I hope you stick with me each Wednesday as I branch off into something a bit different. And if you missed a page look for the story underneath the Hump Day Promotions category. You are now free to move around the blog.

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 14

Posted on June 24, 2020June 23, 2020 by A Renfro

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

*About to get gruesome and there is going to be some language.

I don’t write love stories. Just a warning.*

Rusty, a bar whore, one prone to spend time searching for love in all the wrong places, nursed her drink (whiskey straight) slowly and looked around the crowded country bar for a man to spend the night with. It didn’t really matter what kind of guy it was. She just needed someone to fill the need for the night. She was once an attractive woman, shimmering brown hair, sparkling green eyes, with a body that would make most men rethink religion and their wives. But at her current age of forty five she had started to sag and lag in all the wrong ways. She wasn’t aging into ugliness, nothing like that, but the drinking, the casual sex, drugs, and cigarettes, were taking a hard toll on her body and her looks.

“Another one, Rusty,” the bartender asked. He knew her and knew her drinking limits, they were legendary, so he knew it would take a lot for her to reach her limit.

“Slam it,” she replied and knocked back her drink. It went down easy and smooth.

“Not much to work with?” The bartender asked, a college kid, right around twenty, fit and in shape, kind of a stand out in a world filled with bar flies. He had noticed her eyes scanning the room while he poured her another round.

“No. Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign?”

“To clean things up, get back on a new path, quit trying to fuck everything that walks,” she replied, knocking back the drink in one gulp. She pulled out a large wad of bills and paid her tab, leaving a hefty tip.

“That tips too much,” the bartender replied, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. Steak instead of something in the microwave would be a nice change of pace.

“Keep it. You’ve earned it. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Are you okay to drive?”

“Do you need to ask?”

“Part of the procedure. I have to ask even though I know the answer.”

“Yep, right as rain,” she replied and smiled, a smile that made her look years younger.

“Be safe. It’s starting to snow out there.”

“Will do. Thanks,” she replied and made her exit.

Outside, Rusty cinched her coat tight, and looked up into the late afternoon sky. It was a cold and dreary day, bitter winds were tearing through the air, and soft flakes of snow were falling, dusting the ground and the idle cars in the parking lot. She left her stance and hurried over to her truck. She climbed inside, fired up the engine, and turned on classic country music, but classic country wasn’t doing it for her today. She needed something more upbeat, louder, more in tune with the Christmas season. She found a local station playing nothing but Christmas songs. She turned it up loud, hummed along to Jingle Bell Rock, feeling good for the first time in a very long time, thinking that maybe the next year would be a season of change. Maybe pack it all up and head to the coast. Start fresh and start new. Plenty of places needed a waitress and she was sure one of them would hire her. She pulled out of the parking lot and angled her truck towards home. The drive was easy and smooth and about half way home was when she saw the sign for The Lot.

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review The Lot on Route 6. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 13

Posted on June 17, 2020June 16, 2020 by A Renfro

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

*About to get gruesome and there is going to be some language.

I don’t write love stories. Just a warning.*

Ginny froze and put up her hands to defend herself just as the axe made contact. Her hands were pinned to her face when she fell to the ground, landing flat on her back.

Gavin began to scream and laugh as he chopped her to pieces, inch by inch. When he was finished with his task, he tossed the pieces of her into the trees and they welcomed this new flesh with greedy delight. “Is it enough?!” He screamed. “Is it enough?!”

“No!” He heard them reply back in unison. “More. Feed us more!”

Gavin had never heard them talk out loud. Their voices had only existed inside his head up until now. This sudden vocalization stunned him, stunned him so much that he dropped his axe, and hurried inside. He would clean up later. He had to get away from them. He closed the door and dropped into a nearby corner, covering his ears, but he could hear them chanting – “More. Feed us more!”

He looked down at his wrists and thought of his pocket knife. He pulled it out and without hesitation slashed both wrists, to hell with his town he thought even though that thought crushed him. He had finally had enough and the town would have to take care of itself. He couldn’t do this anymore. But the blood never came. Instead, the wounds sat open for a moment, like red gaping mouths, and then they slowly healed themselves. He did it again and again and again and the result was always the same. He tossed the knife, hung his head, and cried. He was so ready for this nightmare to be over and he saw no end in sight. Even death wouldn’t take him.

Outside the trees chanted – “More. Feed us more!”

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review The Lot on Route 6. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 11

Posted on June 3, 2020June 2, 2020 by A Renfro

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

*About to get gruesome and there is going to be some language.

I don’t write love stories. Just a warning.*

Ginny and Delilah Brickstone drove up the quiet two lane road, chatting about nothing, enjoying the drive. They were twin sisters born two minutes apart eighty years ago and both of them had aged rather gracefully. Their grey hair was elegantly combed and parted and their clothes were fit for a Sunday service, but this wasn’t Sunday. This was the night after Thanksgiving and it was another night of Bingo. Both sisters were masters at the game and had once again won their fair share of prizes. They were tournament champs and this current tournament had taken them far away from home.

“I’m not sure what this is,” Ginny replied, looking at the box with the smart speaker inside of it. She had shied away from almost all of technology, except for her smart phone. The bingo apps on the phone were so great she couldn’t pass up the chance to play them, so she had caved and bought the cheapest phone she could find. Beyond those apps, she made a call or two, but that was about all she did with the phone.

“That’s one of them new talking machines that are so popular right now.”

“Talking machines.”

“Yeah. You ask it things and it does those things for you. All with just your voice,” Delilah replied. The smarter one of the two, but neither would admit that.

“Not sure I could use something like that.”

“Say, would you like a Christmas tree this year?”

Ginny looked up through the windshield, as the car’s headlights highlighted Gavin’s man made sign. “It might be nice to have one this year. The grandkids would love it. I don’t think they have ever had a real one.”

“I think you’re right,” Delilah replied and angled the car off the road and onto the one Gavin had made.

“Why would anyone put a lot way out here?” Ginny asked, putting away the smart speaker, looking around, kind of feeling a bit scared even though she shouldn’t have been. But the night and world around their car was empty and dark. It felt like they were the only two humans in the world.

“I don’t know, but maybe we’ll find some real good trees that aren’t picked over. An out of the way place like this is sure to have some.”

Ginny was always the cautious one, and her caution signals started to flare up when she saw The Lot for the first time. It was sitting all alone, basking in lights, but the lights weren’t real bright. Something about it all seemed wrong.

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review The Lot on Route 6. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Haiku – 6/2/2020

Posted on June 2, 2020 by A Renfro

It crawled from the sand

Filled with evil intentions

Ready to consume

I just released a new cover for my short story “The Living Sand” and it is a terrifying one. It really fits the story so much better than the one I had attached to it. The old cover (below) looks more like a kids story – one where kids go on adventures by the sea shore and hunt for pirates and buried treasure. The Living Sand is nothing like that. Two boys discover a beach and find a warning – create life in the sand and life it will have. Well, they do just that and chaos ensues. That is why the new cover works so well. That creature in the picture looks like something brought up from the depths of hell. Anyway, if you want to read it or review it check out the information at the bottom of the page. You are now free to move around the blog.

If you want a copy here are two ways to get it:

Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review The Living Sand. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted below.

4 out of 5 Stars – I like mine with a twist!

4 out of 5 Stars – Creepy tale.

US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00766SS3M?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00766SS3M?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B00766SS3M?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

CA: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00766SS3M?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 10

Posted on May 27, 2020May 26, 2020 by A Renfro

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

*About to get gruesome and there is going to be some language.

I don’t write love stories. Just a warning.*

Gavin stepped back, wiping a mess of blood, brain, and bone off his face, trying to keep his stomach from flinging itself upwards and out of his mouth. He slipped as he stepped back, caught himself, and then, when he was on two steady feet. He looked at the ground. Puke, the bit he had been fighting, raced up and out of his mouth when he saw one of Fred’s squished eyeballs staring up at him.

“I can’t fucking do this! I can’t. This it too much!” Gavin screamed this at the trees as he wiped the puke from his mouth. “Fuck you!”

After this tirade, a shooting pain exploded inside Gavin’s brain. He dropped to his knees and held his head while an image formed inside it. It was his town and it was burning, but this time he not only saw it burning, he heard the screams of those dying an agonizing death. It was those screams that gave him the strength to push up from his knees.

“Fine! Have it your way!” He screamed this at the trees after flipping them off. He retrieved his axe and started chopping.

An hour later, the trees were fed, the truck was under water and Gavin had finished concealing the scene of the crime. No one would be the wiser if they stopped by for a casual visit, because Gavin had made a small parking lot out of gravel. The gravel helped to conceal each crime because, when the murder was over, there was always a mess. Humans tend to make a mess when they are split apart like a deer during hunting season. A quick bag of gravel or two, maybe three, and the parking area was pristine again, ready for fresh meat. Gavin might have been a lot of things, but sloppy wasn’t one of them.

As the day drew to a close, Gavin retreated back to his shack, his home, and it was his home now. No use hiding the fact. There was no way he could go back to town, go back to his old life, his smart home, his bed, his TV and unwatched shows. This was now his life and current future and he would just have to make do with what it was. He collapsed into a corner and let his body fall limp against the wall. He tried not to think of the murders, the thoughts of the lives he had ended, tried not to think of things they would never accomplish, never see, never see, but it was no use. His conscience wouldn’t let him forget what he had done. All he could do was sit in the corner, cry, sob, bang his head against the wall, occasionally piss his pants (he was beyond caring about bodily functions), and pray that all of this would be over soon. He wasn’t sure he could keep doing it, but he knew he would and he knew he would have to. It was his duty and his burden to bear. He heard the trees rustle outside. It sounded like laughter. They were laughing at his pain.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Shut up!” He screamed this at the trees and then started to shake and spasm. He continued doings this until he passed out from exhaustion. But the voices didn’t stay silent. His dreams were filled with nightmares and tortured screams.

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review it. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 7

Posted on May 6, 2020May 5, 2020 by A Renfro

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

*About to get gruesome. I don’t write love stories. Just a warning.*

Paul and Paulina Featherstone were heading home from her business conference when they happened upon the sign Gavin had made by hand. It read: “FRESH, LIVE CHRISTMAS TREES!”

They were both weary and tired as they pulled off of the two lane road and onto what appeared to be a man-made road large enough to fit their SUV. They were a young couple, early thirties, filled with life and expectations, fit and in shape. They didn’t know what awaited them.

“You sure we should be doing this?” Paulina asked, staring out at the open field and the trees, listening to the weeds and grass brushing the sides of the vehicle, eyes seeing nothing but emptiness wherever she looked. It was spooky silent and quiet.

“You worry too much. Besides, wouldn’t it be nice to have a live tree this year instead of that fake one we’ve been using all these years. The needles are about gone and we spend more time sweeping and vacuuming than we do enjoying it.”

“I like the fake one. Good memories you know,” she replied, glancing at the clock. It was just past 4 in the afternoon and the sun was starting to cast a thin light across the world.

“Sure, but I love the smell of a fresh pine tree. It takes me back to childhood days.”

“I get that, but it’s not even Thanksgiving. We still have a week to go. Isn’t this a bit early?”

“Maybe, but this is the first lot we’ve seen open. Might be able to get a real good tree at a real good price.”

Paulina fell silent. She knew she couldn’t argue with him when he got like this.

The car crept forward and when it rounded a set of trees they saw The Lot sitting alone in the field, basking in emptiness. Gavin had spruced the place up, given the small house and fence around the trees a Christmas makeover. Each white fence post had a Christmas scene painted on it – Santa with a child on his lap, Rudolph with his nose so bright, elves in Santa’s shop, Christmas trees and presents underneath, happy kids with toys, and so forth and so on. Nothing but good holiday cheer. Happiness and smiles all around. The house, which was nothing more than a shed with a roof and four walls, a door, and a tiny window, was painted to look like a Gingerbread House ready to be broken apart and devoured. Three spotlights had been erected in strategic areas around The Lot and were hooked up to a generator sitting behind the house. It was a beautiful unassuming Christmas scene, a perfect trap.

“I don’t know about this place,” Paulina replied, as Paul brought the car to a stop.

“It’ll be fine. Promise. Look I see a good one over there,” Paul replied, pointing into The Lot and turning off the car at the same time. He opened the door before she could protest again and climbed out. He took in a deep breath and savored the strong pine smell. It was the strongest he had ever smelled.

Paulina exited the car and joined her husband, who was peering into the trees, eyes on the one he wanted to take home.

“Have you ever seen them so green?” He asked.

“We’d kill it in a week.”

“What’s wrong with you? Where’s your childhood glee?”

“I just don’t like this place. It feels off.”

“How can it feel off? It’s a damn Christmas tree lot.”

“It just does. I think we should -”

A shotgun blast ended that statement, as she took a direct shot to the chest, tearing it open, covering her husband of ten years in a shower of bright red blood. Paul wiped away the pieces of his wife from his face, pieces that had temporarily blinded him, and dropped down to her side. He started to scream her name, as she bled out onto the ground. The roots of the trees moved quickly underneath the dirt and lapped up the blood as it sank into the Earth. Paul turned around, eyeballing the area, wondering where the shot had come from, and just as he caught a glimpse of metal, a second shotgun blast took off his head. Splattering him all over the front of the SUV, spinning him around in a circle. His lifeless body came to rest on top of his wife.

Gavin dropped the gun in the doorway and screamed. He then fell down to his knees and threw up. He couldn’t believe he had pulled a trigger that ended two lives, two healthy young lives from the look of it.

He smacked himself hard across the face, trying to regain his senses, and then forced his body to stand. He listened for sirens, but heard nothing, only silence, as he walked over to the dead couple and stared down at them. He had never seen death this close and personal and it caused a strange fascination. He jumped when Paulina, barely alive, reached up towards him. He looked down at her as death came and took her final breath.

Gavin turned away and puked again. When he was finished, he smacked himself again, wiped his mouth, and when he was composed, turned back to the task at hand. He grabbed Paul by his ankles and drug him over to the fence. He hoisted Paul up and onto the fence, hanging him there for a moment, stripping his pockets clean of all his personal items. He then grabbed Paul’s feet and was about to push him in when multiple tree limbs shot forward and grabbed him. They pulled Paul in, ripped him apart and then feasted on the scattered blood and body parts. When it was all said and done, all that was left of Paul were his shoes and tattered remains of clothes. Gavin picked them up the best he could and then tossed them into the back of the SUV along with Paul’s few personal items.

Finished with that task, he walked over to Paulina and was about to drag her to the trees when a thought popped into his head. He quickly stripped her naked, tossing all of her stuff into the back of the SUV, and then drug her body over to the trees. She was lighter than Paul, so he easily tossed her into the trees. He quickly turned away, but the sound of them eating was more than enough to make him nauseous again.

Gavin returned to the SUV and climbed behind the wheel. He sat there a moment looking the vehicle over, feeling the comfortable leather against his back side, imagining how great a ride this vehicle must be. The couple who had owned it had spared no expense. He closed his eyes, forced the tears to stay away, and when he thought he was composed, he opened them. That’s when he saw the two car seats, reflecting in the rear view mirror. They were covered in cheerio crumbs and goldfish, empty seats thankfully, but seats that said so much about the two people he had ruthlessly killed. He started to shake and bob back and forth. He screamed and screamed again. Clutching his hands. Fingernails digging into flesh. The nausea came. He puked again, but this time he had nothing left in his stomach, so he puked up blood, puked it all over the seat Paulina had just been sitting in. He wiped his mouth, punched the dash, and then turned on the vehicle. The SUV purred softly as he drove it down to the pond and stopped at the water’s edge. He opened the door, put the car in neutral, and climbed out when it started rolling. The vehicle was consumed by the dark water, dragging it deep into the murky depths.

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review it. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 6

Posted on April 29, 2020April 28, 2020 by A Renfro

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

Gavin stood on the road, watching for cars, nailing a wooden post into the ground. The sun was warming the day, making it a lot hotter than it should have been. A police car pulled up and stopped near the spot where he was working. Gavin stopped his work and turned towards the man climbing out from behind the wheel. Ernie Holsten, tall and lanky, adjusted his clothes as he walked over to where Gavin was standing. Gavin stood about 6 foot 5, and he had a good three inches of height over Ernie.

“Afternoon,” Gavin replied, adjusting himself, popping his neck – a neck that seemed stiffer now that he was thirty. And he assumed that if he felt this way, Ernie, who was fifty five, must be into a whole other category of body pains.

“Afternoon,” Ernie replied, adjusting his gun belt so it felt a bit more comfortable. “How are you?”

“Fine. You?”

“Good as can be I guess.”

“Something on your mind?”

“Hadn’t seen you around town in a bit. Just wondering if you were doing okay. Tried your home, figured you might be here since I didn’t find you there.”

“Trying to fix up the land, maybe thinking about selling it sometime soon. Money is always appreciated and I don’t need the land. Sitting here doing nothing but growing grass and weeds.”

“Selling it. Really? Hasn’t your family owned it for generations?” Ernie asked, confused.

“Long time. Sure,” Gavin replied, thinking about the trees, the hungry trees who needed to be fed. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he somehow he knew it was time to start feeding them.

“Why now?” Ernie asked, feeling that Gavin, who was always a great and loyal guy, always lived on the side of honest, wasn’t telling him the whole truth. Something seemed off, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

“Nest egg. Retirement. You know, thinking of the future.”

“I understand that,” Ernie replied, looking Gavin over from top to bottom, noticing he was looking a bit thinner and he looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Huge black rings circled his eyes.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“Nope. Only Worried. Hoping you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Gavin replied kind of sharply, but with a smile. He never liked being rude, but he didn’t have time for the chit chat. He could sense the trees. He could sense their hunger. He could feel them wanting Ernie. There was a tingle in the air that only he could feel. He turned towards the trees and whispered the word – “No.”

“No?” The sheriff asked, eyebrows raised.

“No. No problems. I’m A-Okay,” Gavin replied, popping up his thumb.

“You know you can talk to me anytime about anything.”

“I know and I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’d like to get back to my work if you don’t mind.”

Ernie looked at the post, standing rigid in the ground, waiting on something to be hung on it. “Are you putting a sign on the post?”

“I can’t sell the land if I don’t advertise.”

“Guess not,” Ernie replied, glancing at the field, noticing a well-worn path that led back into it, disappearing behind a set of tall trees. He couldn’t see what was behind the trees, but the path looked like it had been used frequently.

“Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for checking in.”

“Stay out of the heat. Going to be an unusually hot one. Heat like this, so strange this close to Thanksgiving.”

“It is,” Gavin replied. “Have a good one.”

“You too,” Ernie replied and then walked over and opened the car door. He paused before climbing behind the wheel. He looked at Gavin. “Remember. Anything you need, I’m here.”

“Got it,” Gavin replied, smiling again.

“Okay,” Ernie replied, and climbed into the car. He turned on the engine and waved as he passed. Gavin waved back and then went back to his hammering. When he was done (and sure he was alone), he hung up the handmade sign that was going to rest on the post throughout the season. He stepped back and looked at his work. He thought the sign would do what it needed to do. He turned from the sign to the road and wondered if anyone would show up or if he would have to go looking for victims. Route 6 wasn’t frequently traveled. He hoped he wouldn’t have to go looking for anyone or anything. He wasn’t the killing kind and he certainly wasn’t the stalking and planning kind either. He hoped his victims would come to him. He knew that would be the best scenario, but he knew it probably wouldn’t work out to be that simple. It also wouldn’t lessen his burden or make it easier on him to hand out the killing stroke, but he knew he would be less likely to get caught or screw things up if it happened right here in the field.

“Well, better get back to it,” he replied to himself and then went back to work. It was time to make a road that led into The Lot.

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review it. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 5

Posted on April 22, 2020April 21, 2020 by A Renfro

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

“Such a willing host this year. A lot less trouble than those who came before.”

“This isn’t the first time?” Gavin asked, confused.

“Never you mind all that business. Just know that you’ve been chosen and it is up to you to fulfill their needs this year.”

“So, how do I feed them?” Gavin asked again, fearful for the answer, not really wanting it, knowing deep down that it wouldn’t be a good one.

“Humans. It is what they desire the most. They’ve been known to enjoy animals as well, but it will not keep them satisfied. To truly keep them satisfied, they demand the taste of human flesh, human blood.”

Gavin felt his legs go weak, but he composed himself and faced the being with all of the courage he could find. “What if I don’t?”

The thing said not a word as it placed a cold lifeless finger on Gavin’s temple. Gavin’s head shot back, his neck popped, and he stood frozen in place, an unmoving traveler falling into images planted deep inside his head. What he saw was one of these trees pulling itself free from the Earth and walking with its roots, but it wasn’t just walking; it was transforming as it moved. When it finished with its transformation, it was a monster of nightmare proportions. It had the face and body of a werewolf, fangs glinting, sap saliva dripping from its mouth. Pine needles covered its body like fur, and it reeked of pine. But this wasn’t a pleasant pine smell; this smell was filled with rottenness, a sickening almost vomit inducing rotten pine smell. The creature pushed through the fence and made its way towards Gavin’s town. When it reached town it killed with recklessness, spilling the blood of the innocent, slaughtering, devouring, and leaving a trail of red in its wake. It was a pure killing machine fueled by blood lust.

Gavin fell to the ground, gasping for air, when the thing released him from its psychic grip.

“There are twenty trees here,” the thing replied. “I’ll let you imagine what they could do to your town.”

“I can’t kill anything,” Gavin replied, on his knees, looking up at the creature, eyes streaming tears.

“You’ll learn and you’ll learn fast. My chosen ones always do.”

“Why Christmas? Why ruin this holiday?”

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year and Christmas tree lots are so unassuming. No one pays them any attention because they are so numerous.”

“I won’t kill anyone in my town.”

“I’ll return when it’s time,” The thing replied and evaporated.

Gavin looked at the lot and thought about what he was faced with and what he was going to have to do. He then turned to the side and puked. And puked. And puked. He then sat down on the ground (wiping off the warm chunks on his chin) and cried.

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review it. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6: Page 4

Posted on April 15, 2020April 14, 2020 by A Renfro

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086814J42

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086814J42

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B086814J42

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B086814J42

Something was happening inside the ball. It sounded mechanical, like something sliding on a tract.

Time passed.

Gavin waited.

How long did he stand there? He was unsure, but when whatever was inside was done doing what it was doing, the ball lifted up off the ground and evaporated into the night’s sky. When the ball was gone, Gavin turned his eyes toward the place where the ball had sat moments before. In its place was a tiny house, surrounded by an empty fenced yard. A path of candy cane colored bricks split the yard in two.

“Thank you for being punctual,” the thing from his kitchen replied, appearing out of nowhere. It was standing there, dressed all in black, one eye burning red and the other green inside its hood.

“What do you want with me?” Gavin asked, terrified and angry at the same time. For the first time he realized how alone he was. There wasn’t a sign of civilization around him for miles. He might as well have been on the moon.

“I told you. You need to feed my trees.”

“What trees?”

The thing waved its hand; inside the fenced in yard, twenty trees abruptly appeared, springing forth from the Earth, green and lush, and extremely plump. Gavin walked up to the fence and peered into them. He then turned from the Christmas tree lot to the thing standing several feet behind him. “Okay, so I see them. How do I feed them?”

Tune in every Wednesday and read it page by page until it is completed.
Send me an email: atothewr@gmail.com. In the header put: I would love to review it. Then let me know what you use to read ebooks: Kindle or Something Else. I will send it to you and all I ask is for you to give me a fair and honest review.
If you are able to buy it and do want to support me the links to purchase the story are posted above.

Humpday Promotions: The Lot on Route 6

Posted on March 18, 2020March 16, 2020 by A Renfro

This is an exclusive early look at my next self-published release. This will also be the last thing I release for a long time. I have a novel ready to publish, but I am planning to try to find an agent for that one. I am also going to work on another book of Poetry, but I going to try and find a publisher for that one as well. Self-publishing isn’t where I want to be so I need to get back to chasing my dreams of being a traditionally published author. Fingers crossed.

Now, onto the excerpt and how you (as a reader of this blog) can get this short story before it is published. This is real simple and it is free – here it is. Leave me a review when it publishes. That is all you have to do and it has to be an honest review. If it sucks so be it. I hope it doesn’t but all I want is honesty.

Send an email to this address: atothewr@gmail.com.

In the email header put this: I want in.

And let me know what you read your books on. Is it Kindle or something else? Kindle has their own file so I have to format it for that particular device. Thanks again for all the support. You are now free to move around the blog.

EXP: He kicked off his shoes, took off the coat that had protected him from the late October chill, and made his way into the kitchen. He walked over to the counter, humming along to Jingle Bells, and began to make a single man’s dinner – ham and cheese sandwich, light mustard, white bread and chips, and a cold beer to wash it all down. He laid all of the items on the counter and was in the middle of figuring out how to get them to the table when the room changed. It was suddenly colder, filled with an evil chill. The air was crawling with black molecules, they were crawling over everything, squirming, writhing about in an orgy of dark lust. He tried to shrug it off as just Halloween jitters, picked up his plate and beer, and turned to take his dinner to the table. He nearly dropped everything when he saw what was sitting at the table, looking up at him. The thing at the table was dressed all in black with a hood covering its face. Underneath the hood were two eyes, one glowing red, and the other glowing green.

“You will feed my trees,” the thing replied in a deep husky male voice. “And you will meet me at this spot in one hour or you will die, and then so will your town.” It slid a piece of red paper across the table. Its hand was ashy and grey, with sharp talons on the ends of the fingers . . .

Hump Day Promotions: Need to Feed

Posted on February 12, 2020February 12, 2020 by A Renfro

Another year. Another massacre looming. When the sun rises on the Old West town of Saltwater Junction this town will face head on two fierce predators. Vampires who stalk you in the sunlight, and werewolves that transform with the sunrise. This short story rewrites the legends and all you’ve ever known about these creatures of the night. Where do you go when there’s no place left to hide?

5 out of 5 Stars – Kudos for a new spin

4 out of 5 Stars – Pretty good…

US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006GWZ24U?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B006GWZ24U?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B006GWZ24U?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

CA: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B006GWZ24U?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

“Bob, Linda, you in there?”

Still no answer.

He looked back at his horse, and then pushed the front door open.

He held the gun tight, and moved into the small living room area that held a few chairs, and several small tables. From this room, he could see into a kitchen, and into the two bedrooms.

He stood there a moment and scanned the place over.

The house appeared to be silent, but he thought he heard something, something low and almost inaudible coming from one of the bedrooms.

It was a sucking sound, like something feasting.

He made his way towards that sound, boots clicking on the uneven hard wood floor, spurs jingling, hoping he wasn’t right, but pretty sure he was.

He stopped at the door that led into the Master Bedroom, and listened again. Sure enough, the sound he was hearing was coming from this room. He held the holy water vial up, and popped the lid off with his thumb. He aimed his gun forward, and slipped into the room.

Haiku – 2/6/2020

Posted on February 6, 2020 by A Renfro

A soft rain falling

Man stumbles through the dark night

Stalked by black shadows

Haiku – 1/23/2020

Posted on January 23, 2020 by A Renfro

Sitting in the hall

Head swiveling left and right

Watching for shadows

Freebie Alert! Nightlight Poetry is free to read today and tomorrow!

Posted on January 9, 2019January 8, 2019 by A Renfro

My one and only collection of Horror Poetry is currently running free for the next two days – 1/8 and 1/9. You can grab your copy at the links below. And remember it is better to sleep with the lights on at night. There are things that lurk in the darkness. Things with big teeth and hungry eyes. Things ready to gobble you up.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KSF5Q5H

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07KSF5Q5H

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07KSF5Q5H

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B07KSF5Q5H