We try to read the stars for both our rise and demise.
Horror-Scopes
The dash is to avoid copyright infringement… BECAUSE SOMEONE BEAT ME TO IT
The project that launched the dream! Unfortunately someone beat me to the title in 1979 and copywrote the word “horrorscope”, but that hasn’t stopped the pursuit. The collection of personality defunct, short horror stories has been slowly growing.
The first one, Capricorn: The Blood Cherry Trees, is fully completed and out for publishing requests with a few magazines. Look for updates in the blog! Hopefully it will see the public light of day by next year! In the meantime, here are a few sneak peaks at the other works in progress.
Capricorn: The Blood Cherry Trees
After a plague called The Itch has ravaged the world, pockets of humanity find a way to continue in the shadow of a largely dead civilization. New Orleans is no different, as the five Bordeaux brothers navigate a dwindling childhood amidst the weight of their impending deaths. Afterall, no one lives past 25.
No one except Paul Fontenot that is.
However, longevity comes at a terrible price as the boys discover in Fontenot’s Blood Cherry grove…
Aries: The Price of a Memory
Isabella’s Papi, used to say, “You don’t take a Whitaker woman to wed anymore than you take a hurricane. You ride it out and pray you don’t get swallowed”.
Isabella was a Whitaker through and through, but as her 13th birthday approaches, she begins to fear she might be swallowed by the storm.
What secrets lie beneath the proud Whitaker name?
A dark patron, a dark history, a dark lullaby. Isabella would soon find out the price of a memory.
Sagitarius: Love Me Tender
Lesbian, homeless, about-to-be-college-drop-out doesn’t make for the best Tinder bio. I mean, it’s not like I’m the only dysfunctional, of-age, but not actually adult on the block. I am, however, probably the only asshole lucky enough to catch Sophia’s eye! She should be way too smart to go for someone of my… socioeconomic, white trash inclination. But here we are!
In love, in lesbians, till death do us part.
Till death do us part.
Till death…
A WordPress.com site
Obi Yonder 