Creature (Fiction Without Frontiers) - Softcover

Shea, Hunter

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1787580210 ISBN 13: 9781787580213

Verlag: FLAME TREE PUB, 2018

Inhaltsangabe

‘It’s much more than most creature features, it has heart and thought, and a superb, head-on horror conclusion. The best Hunter Shea I’ve read so far and by more than a little.’ - Eddie Generous (Unnerving Magazine)

The monsters live inside of Kate Woodson. Chronic pain and a host of autoimmune diseases have robbed her of a normal, happy life. Her husband Andrew’s surprise of their dream Maine lake cottage for the summer is the gift of a lifetime. It’s beautiful, remote, idyllic, a place to heal.

But they are not alone. Something is in the woods, screeching in the darkness, banging on the house, leaving animals for dead.

Just like her body, Kate’s cottage becomes her prison. She and Andrew must fight to survive the creature that lurks in the dead of night.

FLAME TREE PRESS is the new fiction imprint of Flame Tree Publishing. Launching in 2018 the list brings together brilliant new authors and the more established; the award winners, and exciting, original voices.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

Hunter Shea is the author of over 20 books, with a specialization in cryptozoological horror that includes The Jersey Devil, The Dover Demon, Loch Ness Revenge and many others. His novel The Montauk Monster, was named one of the best reads of the summer by Publishers Weekly. A trip to the International Cryptozoology Museum will find several of his cryptid books among the fascinating displays. Living in a true haunted house inspired his Jessica Backman: Death in the Afterlife series (Forest of Shadows, Sinister Entity and Island of the Forbidden). He was selected to be part of the launch of Samhain Publishing's new horror line in 2011 alongside legendary author Ramsey Campbell. When he's not writing thrillers and horror, he also spins tall tales for middle grade readers on Amazon's highly regarded Rapids reading app.

An avid podcaster, he can be seen and heard on Monster Men, one of the longest running video horror podcasts in the world, and Final Guys, focusing on weekly movie and book reviews. His nostalgic column about the magic of 80s horror, Video Visions, is featured monthly at Cemetery Dance Online. You can find his short stories in a number of anthologies, including Chopping Block Party, The Body Horror Book and Fearful Fathoms II.

Living with his crazy and supportive family and two cats, he's happy to be close enough to New York City to see the skyline without having to pay New York rent. You can follow his travails at www.huntershea.com.

Hunter Shea is the author of over 20 books, with a specialization in cryptozoological horror that includes The Jersey Devil, The Dover Demon, Loch Ness Revenge and many others. His novel The Montauk Monster, was named one of the best reads of the summer by Publishers Weekly. A trip to the International Cryptozoology Museum will find several of his cryptid books among the fascinating displays. Living in a true haunted house inspired his Jessica Backman: Death in the Afterlife series (Forest of Shadows, Sinister Entity and Island of the Forbidden). He was selected to be part of the launch of Samhain Publishing's new horror line in 2011 alongside legendary author Ramsey Campbell. When he's not writing thrillers and horror, he also spins tall tales for middle grade readers on Amazon's highly regarded Rapids reading app.

An avid podcaster, he can be seen and heard on Monster Men, one of the longest running video horror podcasts in the world, and Final Guys, focusing on weekly movie and book reviews. His nostalgic column about the magic of 80s horror, Video Visions, is featured monthly at Cemetery Dance Online. You can find his short stories in a number of anthologies, including Chopping Block Party, The Body Horror Book and Fearful Fathoms II.

Living with his crazy and supportive family and two cats, he's happy to be close enough to New York City to see the skyline without having to pay New York rent. You can follow his travails at www.huntershea.com.

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Creature

By Hunter Shea

Flame Tree Publishing Ltd

Copyright © 2018 Hunter Shea
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-78758-021-3

CHAPTER 1

Kate Woodson was dying, and her executioner was her own body.

Her doctors hadn't said as much the past few visits, but even she knew there was a limit to what a body could take. She had been in worse shape before. Much worse. Last rites and funeral arrangements kind of shape. Kate had come out of it like a modern-day Lazarus.

But she was tired. And hurting. And sick. Always so, so sick. She'd forgotten what it was like to wake up and not be in agony, muscles weak as a newborn's. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd just gone out of the house to go to a store or a movie with Andrew.

Though she wasn't dying today (fat chance, Grim Reaper!), Kate was still wallowing in the deep end of the misery pool. What made it worse was the shadow watching her from the kitchen. It moved out of sight every time she turned her head.

"I see you," she said from the daybed in the living room, her voice deep and scratchy.

She chuckled at the thought that the shadow was scared of her. Then she shivered with the realization that she was scared shitless of it.

"Call the cable stations that do all the ghost shows. We have a haunting in Sayreville, New Jersey." Andrew wasn't home to ask her what she was talking about. He was at work, in a job he hated, because of her. That job came with great benefits. Benefits they couldn't afford to lose.

Not that Kate would have told him about the shadow. He was already worried enough about her. She didn't need him thinking she was losing it mentally as well. Or worse yet, he'd blame it on the meds, making her feel like some kind of delusional addict. The few times he'd ascribed her behavior or thoughts to the pills had angered her so much, she'd worried she'd give herself a stroke over it. It was an extreme reaction, for sure. Kate was never one to hold things in.

Though she did hold back the fear that he might be right.

Besides, wasn't it better that the shadow was a hallucination, a construct of her bad feels, rather than an actual, lurking apparition?

She scratched the back of her shoulder, her wrist popping out just enough to make her see stars for a moment.

Yep, better it was figment of her imagination, a bit of spoiled gruel.

If the shadow wanted to stay in the kitchen, let it. She had other things to worry about. Like getting her wrist back in place. She grabbed it with her good hand and gave a slight twist. There came a tiny, muted crack, and all the bones were back where they belonged.

"That's better," she said to Buttons, her old rescue dog and constant companion. He lay beside the daybed, wheezing doggie snores. She let her hand slip over the daybed, fingertips grazing his head. At least with Buttons, she was never alone. A weak smile curled Kate's lips. She stared at the ceiling, consciously avoiding the kitchen.

She'd never even known what an autoimmune disease was until she was told she had one. Thinking she'd passed the ability to be shocked, she was both flabbergasted and devastated when she was diagnosed several years later with a second, more damaging disease. The rare Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and more common but terrifying lupus were a hell of a one-two punch. The old Kate who didn't suffer from unbearable fatigue, swelling, degenerating eyesight, digestive system breakdowns, heart problems, and a host of other horridness was a distant and ever-fading memory. Most days, it felt like she'd always been this way – broken, hurting, and scared.

Nothing in the vast array of pills on Kate's nightstand would make it all go away. With Ehlers and lupus, there were no cures. At best, the pills dulled the pain, controlled flare-ups, and in some cases made her feel even worse.

Kate checked the pill schedule she'd created on her tablet. It was time for one of her nerve blockers. There was her whole home pharmacy in all its bullet-pointed glory: fentanyl (an uber dangerous patch that she changed every three days and was killing people with alarming frequency), Neurontin, gabapentin, Percocet, Ultram, prednisone, and Tagamet for her stomach, which had been utterly demolished by the pills themselves. Monthly checkups were required to measure the damage the pills were doing to her liver and kidneys, heart and pancreas.

Andrew kept trying to get her to migrate her pills into one of those big plastic holders, the ones with a day of the week printed on each slot. But the only one that would be large enough to support her cache of pharmaceuticals could double as an end table if you attached some legs to it. The sheer size of it depressed the hell out of her. And it made her feel like a feeble, old lady.

Instead, she dumped her assortment of pills in a mason jar. She'd even tied a red-and-white checkered bow around the rim to make it pretty. Martha Stewart would have approved.

She dry-swallowed the yellow pill, screwed the lid back on the jar, and shifted her attention to the television. Turner Classics was having a Joseph Cotten marathon. Kate was partial to Joseph Cotten. She especially loved him in Portrait of Jennie. Her mother used to tell her she looked like Jennifer Jones, the mysterious woman who captures struggling artist Cotten's imagination ... and heart. What Kate saw in the mirror now was a far cry from Jennifer Jones. Her long, chestnut hair had gotten brittle, her eyes perpetually ringed by dark circles and puffy bags. It was hard to maintain her weight, so her cheeks had sunk, kind of the way she'd wished they would when she was a kid and thought Kate Moss was the most beautiful woman in the world. I was a stupid kid, she reminded herself. She'd give anything for some cellulite right about now.

Checking the channel guide, she was disappointed they weren't playing Portrait of Jennie today. Oh, but Niagara was going to be on after dinner. No one had ever told Kate she looked like Marilyn Monroe.

Then again, who did? Maybe that poor girl Anna Nicole Smith, and look what happened to her.

Kate had to pee, but her ankles, knees, and hips felt like they were on fire, the swelling pushing the limits of her reddened skin. She could see the bathroom just down the short hall, but it might as well have been in another state.

"Too bad you're not bigger," she said to the dog. "Like one of those Scottish deerhounds. I could saddle you up and ride you to the potty."

Buttons looked up at her with his sad, moist eyes. "But no, I had to fall in love with a beagle."

He licked her hand and snuggled his head back between his paws.

"Can you at least pee for me? You're very good at peeing."

His tail wagged but his eyes remained closed. He was tired and she was disturbing him.

The pill should take effect soon. Once it took the harsh edge off the pain, she could finally sleep. She'd worry about peeing later. The shadow would go right back where it belonged. Into the ether.

If she fell asleep now, she'd only miss Peking Express, not one of her favorites. A nice two-hour nap, or what she preferred to call a controlled coma, would have her waking up right around the time Andrew came home. Maybe she could get dinner started before he dropped his keys on the bowl by the door, which meant ordering up some grub on one of the many apps on her phone.

"But-But, you wanna veg out with Mommy?" she said, patting the daybed. Buttons jumped right up, taking his spot between her legs and the back cushion, always careful not to rest his weight on her.

Kate...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: FLAME TREE PUB
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2018
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1787580210
• ISBN 13: 9781787580213
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 288
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar