And check out my joint blog with the love of my life and writing partner Dmytry Karpov: Kimberly ♥ Dmytry

Then his blog: Dmytry Karpov

Friday, October 29, 2010

Share a Shiver for All Hallow's Read

'Tis true. The rantings and ravings and rumors. Not just of madmen. THE Neil Gaiman has brilliantly proposed a new Halloween holiday tradition. One I love more than fireworks on the 4th and eye patches on Talk-Like-A-Pirate-Day.

All Hallow's Read. Each Halloween, give the treat of terrors and tremors with the share of a fantastically scary read.

How much do I love books and sugar and scary haunts all at once? Sooo freaking much.

So, Let's do THIS! Let's give this best of all holiday treats some traction, by getting our butts out there and buying books for all.

Dilemma though. So many of my friends are online. ;( And I love you all and would buy each of you a scary book if I could. But I can't. Sooo...another idea.

Let's sit around my campfire, and tell scary stories to each other. Come on, you know you want to. Invite your friends, grab a log and warm your hands. It will be a looooong night, and the forest on the Night of the Dead is unforgiving. Cuddle up to someone you love and let the spooking commence!

I shall start with two little gifts. A link to the scary tale of what happens when you get cyber-sucked dry in THE NOTHING. (This will force you to leave my page, so click back ok?)

And...a tidbit. A little moment in a the life of a scary story. What is the scariest thing you can write in just a few words? To share a shiver, share a story. So, link your favorite scary nightmare (it can be yours or others), and share a little something for us to sink our teeth into now.


"She was curled up in bed reading by firelight, when she heard the sound that would lead to her end. 
She would think later, what an innocuous sound to spell out death's last breath. She would think this as she watched her hand twitching in the corner without her. She would think this as her fingers were flayed. She would think this even as the sound of the saw cracked against her skull. Then she would not think at all. 

She read her book. Unaware of future thoughts. Alone and safe. House locked tight. Until she heard the sound that led to her end.
The toilet flushed in her hallway bathrooom. Water ran. Footsteps."


  1. Happy Halloween!


    Sweating, fear leaked from his skin. He should have paid them back. Now, in this dark alleyway, the cold wind calling out his name, it was too late. Men stood at the only exit, baseball bats in their hands. They cornered him like an injured animal, drowning out his pleas. One stepped forward. The others smiled. Then he lifted his bat, eyes dark. "When you make a deal, you keep it."
    "I know," said the man, closing his eyes, icy tears freezing his face.
    Something swooshed through the air.
    He should have paid them back.

    (Hope you enjoyed that. You can read one of my Halloween theme stories here: "Pumpkins lined that front yard, like orange soldiers with fiery eyes...")

    Have a great All Hallow's Read.

  2. The early morning light sneaked between the gap in the curtains and cast an eerie, sickly mustard light into the room. As my eyes opened I could vaguely make out shapes and shadows. My brain, not yet ready to process what my eyes were seeing, stumbled to attach labels to objects I could see. Dresser. Lamp. Chair. Crib. Old woman. … Old woman? Wait! What was I seeing? Blinking I looked again and there, sure enough, was a woman. Not old as much as dressed in a style that seemed very old. Ruffled shoulders and sleeves, a tightly corseted waist and a bustle … yes, this woman looked right out of central casting for a Victorian special on PBS. What was she doing in our room? And then bent and looked into the crib where my 6-month-old cousin was sleeping. She stooped, kissed her hand and touched little Jacqui on the head. And then … she was gone. No, I don’t mean she walked away. She was just gone. Before I had a chance to say or do anything the dream was over. Later at breakfast I mentioned this strange dream to my grandmother as she cooked eggs in a fry pan on the farmhouse, wood-fired stove. My grandmother just laughed when I started to tell her about this dream … until I began describing the woman. The type of clothing. The color of the garment (emerald green). The particular placement of the lace trim. And then I described her hair: Tied up in a tight bun and flaming red. Suddenly my grandmother dropped the pan on the floor – grease and eggs flying everywhere. “You’re describing my grandmother the way she was dressed the last time I saw her when I was a little girl. That was more than 65 years ago! How on earth could you know what she was wearing? How could …” I guess I’ll never know for sure if it was a dream or a visitation. I do know this: my cousin has had certain powers her whole life. She can “see” and “hear” things that help heal people. Some say she is psychic. Me? Perhaps I have a reason to believe in ghosts …

  3. Thanks Dmytry and Mike. What great stories. :)

  4. I can't beat this one -

  5. thanks Gary. Love all the links and stories all of you :)

  6. I would tell a story, but they all have copyrights. I love the layout too, by the way. Great idea here.

  7. Thanks Draven :) Your stories are great!