Super excited to announce my debut story collection, Whispers in the Ear of a Dreaming Ape, will be published by CLASH Books this Clashtober!
Cover reveal, ToC, & kind words from people you might trust coming soon. PDFs available for review. Please share!
OUT NOW from Salo Press— I Transgress, an anthology of transgressive fiction edited by Chris Kelso. It includes my story “Sangomas”, which takes place in South Africa and is about a very different kind of heist.
Check out this insane TOC:
Laura Lee Bahr, Tom Bradley, Joshua Chaplinsky, Garrett Cook, Dennis Cooper, Samuel R. Delany, Andrew Gallix, C.V. Hunt, James Joyce, Violet LeVoit, Edward Lee, Nick Mamatas, Thomas Moore, Scott Philips, The Residents, Matthew Revert, R.G. Robertson, Michael Salerno, Lauren Sapala, Gary J. Shipley, Iain Sinclair, John Skipp
I’ve got a new story in The Wyrd #2. Editor Marcel Harper describes it as, “a mind and time-bending story of an altogether different kind of mile-high club.” You can check out Aft Lavatory Occupied here.
This story started with the title. I came up with it—you guessed it—on a plane. But I had no idea what the story would be about.
A while after that I came across a Stephen King anecdote. I think it was in Dans Macabre or On Writing, but don’t hold me to that. It was about this story idea he had. About a bathroom (I remember it being on a plane or in an airport) that people kept going into and never coming out of. Eventually they sent in law enforcement, then the army, but no one ever came out. Was it a portal to another dimension? He never wrote it because he had no idea how it ended.
Or something like that.
Either way, that idea inspired this story.
Two years ago my story “The Hand of God” was published in Dark Moon Digest #21. Issue #31 marks my triumphant return to their hallowed pages with “Nobody Rides For Free”, a story of hitchhiking gone wrong that’s Wheel of Fortune meets Deliverance.
Rake watched the blacktop melt into the horizon as Trisha hiked up her skirt and stuck out her thumb. Coarse hair sprouted from her dirt smeared legs, but Rake doubted it would hurt their prospects. Under all the grime Trisha was still a piece of ass. And if they put enough mileage between themselves and the shit that went down in Bellamy, they could splurge for a motel room and clean themselves up…