Posts
This is a great article from Writer’s Digest.
https://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/questions-and-quandaries/writing-advice/how-to-become-a-successful-writer-to-dream-or-not-to-dream
Monday, December 31, 2018
Sunday, December 30, 2018
Saturday, December 22, 2018
Love Gone Awry
2019 is just around the corner. It's not too early to start planning for Valentine's Day and I have the perfect gift.
Have you always wanted to be the star of your own story? Do any of the following apply to you?
I will write a piece of dark fiction, up to 1,000 words, based on your "Love Gone Awry" idea.
Send me an email at blackwidow@shelbypatrick.com with the subject "Custom V-Day Story" briefly summarizing your idea in 100 words or less. Since this is meant to be a horror story for the Valentine's season, please let me know if you want to be the hero or the villain and provide me with a location (preferably your own or some place you always wanted to go but isn't too exotic). Also, please provide two names to be used in the story: yours (or an alias) and that of a loved one.
For example, your email may look like this:
Have you always wanted to be the star of your own story? Do any of the following apply to you?
- Been scarred by love
- Had a scorned woman try to exact revenge on you
- Lost the love of your life
- Dumped or been dumped but then reunited with that person and realized they weren't the same
- Been blinded by love
- Went a little too far for love
- Had regrets with a past lover
- Will never forget your first love
- Found true love that only a tragedy could stop
I will write a piece of dark fiction, up to 1,000 words, based on your "Love Gone Awry" idea.
Send me an email at blackwidow@shelbypatrick.com with the subject "Custom V-Day Story" briefly summarizing your idea in 100 words or less. Since this is meant to be a horror story for the Valentine's season, please let me know if you want to be the hero or the villain and provide me with a location (preferably your own or some place you always wanted to go but isn't too exotic). Also, please provide two names to be used in the story: yours (or an alias) and that of a loved one.
For example, your email may look like this:
I would like a custom story featuring me as the hero, where I was foolish and lost the love of my life and now realize my life is incomplete without him/her.
OR
I would like a custom story featuring me as the villain, in
post-apocalyptic California, where Necromancers roam the place, seeking out depressed souls to reunite with loved ones.
Stories cost $30, paid via PayPal, and will be sent to you via email. Please allow up to three weeks for turn-around time.
Buyers must agree to allow their story, or a portion of it, to be posted at my website, blog, or in a future anthology.
Horror Excerpts
I have three excerpts online from short stories in my anthology The Fear Within. To read the complete stories and more, you can purchase my book HERE
Please send an email to each of the following addresses to read the excerpts:
After Hours -- Working late becomes a night for survival. CLICK HERE
Behind Closed Doors -- What was grandmother hiding behind the locked door in her basement? CLICK HERE
Under a Watchful Eye -- No guards, no fences, and no escape for prisoners once they enter Innsmouth. CLICK HERE
Please send an email to each of the following addresses to read the excerpts:
After Hours -- Working late becomes a night for survival. CLICK HERE
Behind Closed Doors -- What was grandmother hiding behind the locked door in her basement? CLICK HERE
Under a Watchful Eye -- No guards, no fences, and no escape for prisoners once they enter Innsmouth. CLICK HERE
The Nun - Movie Review by Shelby Patrick
"Pray for forgiveness"
Set in the Carta Monastery in Romania in 1952, this horror story is quick to tear apart our faith. It is based on the Conjuring series and centers around a few true-life facts. Three main stars light up the screen -- Jonas Bloquet (Frenchie), Demian Bichir (Father Anthony Burke), and Taissa Farmiga (Sister Irene).
Plot Synopsis (from imdb.com): A priest with a haunted past and a novice on the threshold of her final vows are sent by the Vatican to investigate the death of a young nun in Romania and confront a malevolent force in the form of a demonic nun.
The movie opens with two nuns walking down a creepy hallway to a door that reads "God Ends Here". Once they unlock the door, they unleash the evil demon Valak, who needs a host to be able to walk in this world. One nun is possessed while the other one hangs herself, setting off events in the Vatican that result in sending a priest and a nun on the verge of taking her vows to investigate.
The movie is riddled with cliches from the start and there isn't much left to the imagination. You can pretty much guess what is about to come before it happens. The most horrifying part was the demonic face of the nun; the rest was child's play for a seasoned horror fan.
Most surprising of all was that the ending didn't suck. They didn't throw in some stupid finale that made you sit up and say, "what just happened?" It actually made sense.
It might scare some people. The movie was rated R for obvious reasons. It was released on September 7, 2018.
It was mildly entertaining but not worth the money I paid to see it.
Set in the Carta Monastery in Romania in 1952, this horror story is quick to tear apart our faith. It is based on the Conjuring series and centers around a few true-life facts. Three main stars light up the screen -- Jonas Bloquet (Frenchie), Demian Bichir (Father Anthony Burke), and Taissa Farmiga (Sister Irene).
Plot Synopsis (from imdb.com): A priest with a haunted past and a novice on the threshold of her final vows are sent by the Vatican to investigate the death of a young nun in Romania and confront a malevolent force in the form of a demonic nun.
The movie opens with two nuns walking down a creepy hallway to a door that reads "God Ends Here". Once they unlock the door, they unleash the evil demon Valak, who needs a host to be able to walk in this world. One nun is possessed while the other one hangs herself, setting off events in the Vatican that result in sending a priest and a nun on the verge of taking her vows to investigate.
The movie is riddled with cliches from the start and there isn't much left to the imagination. You can pretty much guess what is about to come before it happens. The most horrifying part was the demonic face of the nun; the rest was child's play for a seasoned horror fan.
Most surprising of all was that the ending didn't suck. They didn't throw in some stupid finale that made you sit up and say, "what just happened?" It actually made sense.
It might scare some people. The movie was rated R for obvious reasons. It was released on September 7, 2018.
It was mildly entertaining but not worth the money I paid to see it.
Friday, March 9, 2018
Behind the Masque (Prologue)
Abernathy Estate, Detroit
suburbs, Spring 2008
Kyle Abernathy sat alone in the
darkened drawing room, watching the flashers of police cruisers and ambulances
outside the window. Dozens of people poured in and out of the mansion, tracking
muddy feet all over pristine carpets. The noise was deafening; cops wandering
around, feet stomping through the halls, raised voices, and the sounds of
people vomiting outside the half-closed door. It was horrible and it wouldn’t
be over with anytime soon; a violent crime had been committed, here in the
Abernathy’s safe haven. The police had a job to do and it didn’t matter that he,
perhaps more than most, paid their salaries; they would do it with or without his
consent.
The door
opened and a tall, lanky red-head walked in. Her navy business suit was glued
to an athletic shape and she walked with a purpose, the lights from the hall
glinting off her badge.
When the
officer reached for the light switch in the room, Kyle frowned.
“Leave them
off,” he said, so soft and quiet that she might not hear.
“Mr.
Abernathy, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you some questions now.”
He didn’t like
this cop. She smelled of sweat and hard work and had eyes that were narrow and
dark, as if hiding something. It was easy to tell when a person had secrets
since he had a ton of them hidden away. Her voice was gruff, not very feminine.
It was irritating. Women should act and sound like women, not construction
workers.
“Where’s Jackson?”
he asked.
“Detective
Jackson has other cases to handle. I’ll be lead investigator for you…”
“He’s too busy
to help my family? Doesn’t matter, I suppose. You already have the person
responsible in custody.” He looked back toward the window. “How bad is it?”
“No one has
told you?”
“Of course
not. I was out of town and received a call that I had to come back. They said
it had something to do with my mother. It was a shock to return and find cops
swarming my estate. All I know is that my mother is dead. How did she die?”
“Your mother
was tortured before he killed her.”
He didn’t
respond for several long minutes, then said, “I heard talk, Detective. My
mother was barely recognizable and when I see trained police officers losing
the contents of their stomach all over my carpeted floors, I can only assume it
was very bad. What did he do to her?”
“I don’t think
you need all the gory details, Mr…”
“Look,
Officer…” He leaned over to get a look at her badge. “…Higgins, I want to know
everything. I can handle it. Now tell me what he did to her – all the details, if you will.”
She swallowed,
tapped her pen on her notepad, and then said, “Her back was whipped, right down
to the bone. Her fingernails were ripped out and as if that wasn’t enough,
he…he…”
Kyle watched
Officer Higgins catch her breath at the memory.
“He what?”
“He skinned
her. I’m sorry, Mr. Abernathy, truly sorry.”
“And the guy
who did this?”
“He worked for
your gardening company. After finishing with the matriarch of the manor, he sat
down and called 9-1-1. We found him sitting next to the body, covered in blood.”
“Thank you,
Detective, that will be all.”
“Mr.
Abernathy, I have some questions…”
“Which I’m
sure will be answered shortly. Right now, I want to be alone.”
The police
officer nodded and left the room, shutting the door. Kyle turned back to the
window and smiled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring coated with
blood. It bore the crest of the Abernathys and was passed down from one head of
the household to the next. Mrs. Abernathy had worn it for years. Kyle had
ripped it from her cold hand hours earlier as she lay dying in the basement.
She hadn’t said a word; just tried to cough out a retort, but nothing could get
past the bruised lips. It was atrocious, but partly sensual, the way her too
skinny, ribs showing, wrinkly body
swayed back and forth from the hooks embedded into her back. She reached for
him, but fell short of the mark. He wanted her to die; the old bag held on for
way too long. Eventually, it happened and the light left those sagging eyes. Now
the legacy was his.
He spun around
in his chair, unlocked the desk drawer, and dropped the ring inside. Once the
murderer was convicted and sentenced to a life in prison, he could safely wear
it. When he returned his attention back to the window, they were carting his
mother’s corpse away.
“Goodbye,
mother,” he said.
After they
loaded the body, he stood, straightened his tie, smoothed out his black pants,
and then walked to the door, ready to go have a talk with the irritating
detective.
Buy Behind the Masque at amazon.com
When Angels Sing (Prologue)
Blaze Kerrigan, he always hated that name. It was a stupid name, but one he carried well. Oh, it wasn’t a birth name, of course. No, the birth name had been Darren or Donald or something like that. He couldn’t remember anymore. It was a name for a weakling, though, and weaklings deserved nothing more than a life of pain. He was good at that, causing pain now. It hadn’t always been that way. At one point, he had been a good man, a trusting man, a loving man. Then she came into his life. The perfect angel, Melanie. She had been a beautiful girl, a flaxen-haired goddess. He used to imagine seeing a halo surrounding her head. God had kissed her when she was born and she had been very special to him.
Her voice had called to him many times. He had listened within the shadows as her songs took flight, filling him with a passionate longing to be with her. Sometimes her voice could turn him on more than he liked, but he had held his control, until a young man came along and sapped her energy. She hadn’t wanted to sing anymore. He had missed her singing, his sweet Melanie. So he went to her one night. They had argued. He hadn’t meant to do it, but before he could stop himself, he had stabbed her over and over. He hadn’t felt the horror he thought he might, instead he felt a wave of pleasure come over him. He had enjoyed drawing her blood. Just thinking about it now stirred something inside of him and he remembered how he had plunged the knife into her soft abdomen. With every plunge, he felt euphoric and knew he had found his calling. All he had to do now was get that damn name out of his mind: Blaze Kerrigan. It was all he could see, Blaze, Blaze, Blaze! The day he had killed Melanie was the day Darren or Donald had ceased to exist and Blaze had been born.
Time to end it, Blaze old boy.
But first things first. Ever since Melanie, the man had needed more. He couldn’t help himself. Those pretty young women all needed to be heard. He would listen and love them and when the time was right, he would kill them, but he wouldn’t do it alone. Just as he created Blaze Kerrigan, Blaze Kerrigan had created him. He was killing now for the both of them and neither would get any rest for a long time. It was time to start the game.
He turned his attention to the young woman before him screaming into the phone glued to her ear. He liked that. Her sweet, melodic voice sang to him.
He ducked into a doorway when she turned her head. Her face held the rugged look of a woman who loved the outdoors. A few wrinkles cut across her brow, a long scratch that split her left cheek in half, and a square jaw made her look slightly masculine, but her voice drew him in. It wasn’t as soft or as sweet as his dear Melanie, but he loved it just the same. It was time to move on, on to the next perfect little angel, this waitress that had waited on and flirted with his Blaze creation.
The girl worked out at a karate studio in downtown Manhattan. He had seen her there just moments ago, her long legs flying at imaginary assailants, her nimble hands moving fast against the heavy bags. Very fit and dangerous, that would be something new to him. It was too bad for her, he thought, that the karate school didn’t teach her one thing – how to avoid distraction.
He jumped on her trail right after class; she hadn’t even noticed. A moment after leaving the school, her cell phone attached itself to her ear, and her mind became preoccupied with yelling at whoever was stuck on the other end. Not very wise on her part, he thought. It would be easy to sneak up behind her and blitz her. He didn’t like easy, so he waited, and watched as she let herself into an apartment complex. Apartments meant other people around. Other people meant nosy neighbors. He didn’t like that complication.
A light turned on. Third floor. Her apartment is on the third floor. He glanced up at the sky; it would be dark soon. If he waited a bit longer, stealing into her apartment would be a breeze. He hoped she would be in the shower, or perhaps sleeping by then. The thought of subduing her made his limbs go weak. The game got better with every angel he hunted. He licked his lips and waited for the cover of darkness so he could fade into the shadows.
Those shadows were his friends, his only friends now. They never lied to him or tried to hurt him. He loved the cover they provided. Once inside them, he could become anyone or anything. No one ever beat the shadows. They were his dark side and they now beckoned to him.
He smiled, reaching inside his jacket to take out the small camouflaged knife he carried. He headed for the apartment building door.
Buy When Angels Sing at amazon.com
Her voice had called to him many times. He had listened within the shadows as her songs took flight, filling him with a passionate longing to be with her. Sometimes her voice could turn him on more than he liked, but he had held his control, until a young man came along and sapped her energy. She hadn’t wanted to sing anymore. He had missed her singing, his sweet Melanie. So he went to her one night. They had argued. He hadn’t meant to do it, but before he could stop himself, he had stabbed her over and over. He hadn’t felt the horror he thought he might, instead he felt a wave of pleasure come over him. He had enjoyed drawing her blood. Just thinking about it now stirred something inside of him and he remembered how he had plunged the knife into her soft abdomen. With every plunge, he felt euphoric and knew he had found his calling. All he had to do now was get that damn name out of his mind: Blaze Kerrigan. It was all he could see, Blaze, Blaze, Blaze! The day he had killed Melanie was the day Darren or Donald had ceased to exist and Blaze had been born.
Time to end it, Blaze old boy.
But first things first. Ever since Melanie, the man had needed more. He couldn’t help himself. Those pretty young women all needed to be heard. He would listen and love them and when the time was right, he would kill them, but he wouldn’t do it alone. Just as he created Blaze Kerrigan, Blaze Kerrigan had created him. He was killing now for the both of them and neither would get any rest for a long time. It was time to start the game.
He turned his attention to the young woman before him screaming into the phone glued to her ear. He liked that. Her sweet, melodic voice sang to him.
He ducked into a doorway when she turned her head. Her face held the rugged look of a woman who loved the outdoors. A few wrinkles cut across her brow, a long scratch that split her left cheek in half, and a square jaw made her look slightly masculine, but her voice drew him in. It wasn’t as soft or as sweet as his dear Melanie, but he loved it just the same. It was time to move on, on to the next perfect little angel, this waitress that had waited on and flirted with his Blaze creation.
The girl worked out at a karate studio in downtown Manhattan. He had seen her there just moments ago, her long legs flying at imaginary assailants, her nimble hands moving fast against the heavy bags. Very fit and dangerous, that would be something new to him. It was too bad for her, he thought, that the karate school didn’t teach her one thing – how to avoid distraction.
He jumped on her trail right after class; she hadn’t even noticed. A moment after leaving the school, her cell phone attached itself to her ear, and her mind became preoccupied with yelling at whoever was stuck on the other end. Not very wise on her part, he thought. It would be easy to sneak up behind her and blitz her. He didn’t like easy, so he waited, and watched as she let herself into an apartment complex. Apartments meant other people around. Other people meant nosy neighbors. He didn’t like that complication.
A light turned on. Third floor. Her apartment is on the third floor. He glanced up at the sky; it would be dark soon. If he waited a bit longer, stealing into her apartment would be a breeze. He hoped she would be in the shower, or perhaps sleeping by then. The thought of subduing her made his limbs go weak. The game got better with every angel he hunted. He licked his lips and waited for the cover of darkness so he could fade into the shadows.
Those shadows were his friends, his only friends now. They never lied to him or tried to hurt him. He loved the cover they provided. Once inside them, he could become anyone or anything. No one ever beat the shadows. They were his dark side and they now beckoned to him.
He smiled, reaching inside his jacket to take out the small camouflaged knife he carried. He headed for the apartment building door.
Buy When Angels Sing at amazon.com
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