Categories
Ama Novels

An awesome video review for my horror audiobook

Like any author, I sincerely appreciate it when someone writes a review for my novel. Even some of the bad reviews are actually quite cool. And when someone takes the time to make a video review (and is not asked to do so), well … to say I bounce around the room like a child on a sugar-high would be an understatement. This awesome video review was made by Narik Chase on YouTube.

If you have made or find a review for Ama (video, podcast, written, or in any other format) please let me know in the comments section below, so I can give credit where credit is due.

Categories
Tales

The Wriggler

The crowd is moving away now. I don’t like it when they all gather like that; they make such a noise. I’ll just watch and wait, soon it will be all quiet again. Apart from the wriggler, that is.

Why do they hang them from the trees like that? Oh, I’m not complaining, but it makes no sense to me at all. I can understand hanging the old ones, and maybe some of the rotten ones too, but this one looks quite young and healthy. He will taste good, I’m sure of that. The last one they hung up was a young one too. I enjoyed picking at that one for weeks, and fed ’till the bones fell with the leaves.

One of the small ones is poking it with a stick, making the wriggler wriggle. I like watching the little ones do that, but I’m getting hungry, so I hope it joins the others soon. I’ll get a little closer. Sometimes it scares the little ones when they see me watching them—it sometimes scares the big ones too. I’ll sit here, just out of reach, and then…a little tilt of my head, a flash from my obsidian eyes, and a sudden burst of my ear-piercing call should do the trick—I’ve heard word that my call chills the soul. That’s it, little one, off you go. I’m sure that I’ll be seeing you soon. Okay, back to the wriggler.

My friends are starting to gather, so I’ll have to get to work soon. I don’t mind sharing, but I do like to have first pickings. The wriggler’s eyes are always the appetiser; the way they pop makes my feathers tingle, and the juice that follows…well, that is simply a rare nectar. It’s such a shame when they burn them. It’s usually the female ones they call ‘witches’ that get set alight and go up in flames…it’s such a waste. Cooked meat doesn’t have the flavour of flesh that’s naturally warm. This one is called a ‘thief’, so thankfully it just gets hung by the neck from the branch of a tree. Like so many of the ones they hang, it’s not dead yet, hence my name for them. It won’t be too much longer, though, before this one wriggles no more.

Categories
Poetry

Impy

A dark poem about a magical little creature I found on Dartmoor

While stumbling across Dartmoor one day I happened upon a quarry, I sat down to eat my lunch but was interrupted by a man called Donny.

I’m sorry to bother you, Donny said, but I’ve lost my Impy. It’s a bothersome creature and really quite wimpy.

Once it ran from its own shadow for hours until it was almost dead. Thankfully I caught up with Impy and made it rest-up in bed.

I wouldn’t burden myself with such a thing but it can grant wonderful wishes. It also keeps my house neat and tidy, and brings a sparkle to all my dishes.

Donny saw the look of confusion on my face and gave a little smile, I see you don’t believe me, he said with a chuckle, but Impy really can beguile.

It also has a bit of a problem with numbers, which is great for me, because so far I’ve had ten wishes granted, although given only three.

I shouldn’t be telling you all this, Donny said with a look of worry, you might want Impy for yourself, and head off in a scurry.

I looked up at Donny while feeling a sense of shame. I met a creature a while ago and think Impy and it are one and the same.

How big is your Impy? I asked, while biting down on my lunch. I had to chomp down hard on my sandwich, which caused a helluva crunch.

It’s a tiny wee thing, Donny replied, with no more than a marble for a head. It fact, he continued, it would happily fit between the crust of your bread.

Sorry, I said, but I haven’t seen your friend this day. But if I do happen upon Impy I will be sure to send him your way.

As I watched a dejected Donny walk off and resume his course, I thought my sandwich might taste better with a dash of sauce.