Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Rie Sheridan Rose @RieSheridanRose @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Spreading the Writer's Word

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

London Calling
by Rie Sheridan Rose

“Come in, my dear.”
The figure in the doorway was gaunt to the point of skeletal. The hair piled into an intricate coiffure atop her head was black with threads of silver glittering in its darkness. The only light came from a candelabra clutched in her bony fingers.. Flickering flames pulled hints of crimson from her velvet gown.
She turned and led the way into the depths of the mansion.
“Why am I here?”
“In good time.”
She gestured into an open doorway, and I stepped through the portal into a study papered with flocked red velvet. Chairs slip-covered in gold satin were pulled up to a circular glass table that felt out of place among the antique furnishings.
I did as she asked. She set the candles in the center of the table, and took the…

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#WhenDreamsComeTrue with author Susi Osborne @susiosborne


I am thrilled to welcome local author Susi Osborne to My Chestnut Reading Tree today. Whilst emailing Susi to organise this feature we found we had quite a few things in common. Check out her bio and see if you can spot our coincidences!

When Dreams Come True…

People dream of becoming rich and famous, becoming a pop singer or a television star of some kind – especially in these days of the reality tv show. Did I ever dream of becoming a writer? No, I did not. But then, I don’t think writing is really of quite the same ilk, it’s more like one of those things that chooses you, rather than the other way round. Or in my case it would seem that way at least.

I’ve always loved words, been fascinated by them you might say. As a child one of my very favourite toys was a…

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Lori R. Lopez @LoriRLopez @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Spreading the Writer's Word

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Late Tour
by Lori R. Lopez

A distressed woman fled,
Heels rapping stone,
Labored breaths panting.
Echoes from all angles
Sharply ricocheted like the
Screams of a carnival attraction,
But the castle was closed for the
Night.  She was locked inside
With its horrors.
The late tour from a shuttle-bus
That rumbled up the mountain
Between village and citadel
Three times daily had been led to
Another room.  Bette lingered,
Scrutinizing the deep eyes of
A Count.  Very dramatic.  Almost
Hypnotic.  Displayed in cheesy
Horror-film fashion, fangs exposed.
One of the extravagant props
For the castle’s “authentic”
Atmosphere.  “The real deal,”
Their guide was fond of stating
With a hammy accent.
She had questioned, “Aren’t vampires
From Transylvania?”
“The vampire is universal.”
“Like the movie studio?”
“The first film was German.”
“The first major film.
Based on folklore and literature.”
“This is a…

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