Scenes From The Carnival Lounge

Fear strikes in many ways. It titillates and terrifies. It can be prosaic or sublime. It’s grim, gritty, seedy, and dark. Fear can be subtle — something that bubbles just under the surface of our perception. It can linger for years, or effervesce before the page is turned. Fear transforms, mutates and evolves. It can be silent and gentle or thundering and vicious. And, in large enough doses, fear can kill.

But, there are fates worse than death. Far, far worse fates, indeed…

Scenes From The Carnival Lounge is a collection of tales that explore the many facets of fear. Here, you’ll travel that strange shadow world between waking and sleep; where angels whisper to their acolytes; where monsters don the skins of their victims; where love and betrayal cross paths with deadly consequences; where things long-buried come lurching and hungry back to life. 

Corpse Honey 

What is ‘corpse honey,’ you ask? Is it something bitter or is it something sweet? ​Well, it is honey, after all, so let’s assume it’s sweet — so sweet in fact, that everything you eat afterwards tastes like ashes. No? Then it must be bitter. So bitter that it leaves your tongue blistered and festering. Perhaps it’s both bitter and sweet. Maybe it tickles the inside of your skull — like your head has been filled with bees. Some are there to make honey, some are there just to sting you… over and over.

​One thing is for certain: corpse honey is not for the squeamish. After all, even the sweetest honey is “loathsome in his own deliciousness…”

Corpse Honey is a collection of twelve gruesome tales, drawing inspiration from the natural world, folklore and fever dreams. Within these pages, you will find the lesser-known horrors that lurk in the shadows of our world...

Fraser
The Disappearance of Michael Pitts

The air lay heavy and unmoving around him. James felt as though he was pushing his way through a massive and ponderous revolving door with each step. The woods were preternaturally quiet — no animal stirred and no breeze rustled the vegetation. He slowly made his way to the edge of the river. The gurgling grew louder, but James couldn’t see anything disturbing the mud laden waters.

“What the hell is going on here?” James gasped.

​“Hell doesn’t have anything to do with it, F.B.I. Man.” Wendy replied, daintily plucking his hand from her slender shoulder. Her eyes regarded him coldly before she added: “There are things you should not know.”