So this is how it starts. Two days after Christmas the house had finally cooled to a comfortable twenty degrees. I was sitting at the kitchen bench drinking a coffee while Jack amused himself recreating history’s greatest battles staring Hulk-Buster Iron Man as the good guy and everything else as the bad guys. Janette was at work, it was almost eig…keep reading
When I’m writing horror, I’m usually thinking a lot about fear and terror. Not about what is scary, or could be scary, but about the feeling that spreads out from the pit of your stomach and has your breath snatching in your throat. The feeling that has you looking back over your shoulder—or even better, afraid to look back over your shoulder after…keep reading
It’s the New Year and I’m buried deep in the guts of the final act of my current novel and it has grown a few problems along the way. But that’s not a problem in itself, that’s just the way things work when I write. In fact, I’m already thinking how I’m going to be changing the second draft. Looking forward to taking my mighty literary knife and cu…keep reading
I know, I know. The nights have been stretching and sleep sits just out of reach, taunting you while the minutes tick by. The bottle of water you kept on your bedside table is now a glass tumbler, still sticky and sweet when you drop your legs over the edge of the mattress every morning and take that first, nervous breath. But you can relax now. Fi…keep reading
