13 Tales To Give You Night Terrors (20 page)

Erin
Callahan
, author of “Black
Holes”

Erin lives in New Hampshire with her
husband and daughter. When she was a small child, she told her
mother she’d defaced a wall with crayons because she’d been
possessed by an imp. She’s convinced that same imp drives her to
write.

Check out her blog at
erinpcallahan.com, or the YA urban fantasy series-in-progress she
co-penned with her friend Troy H. Gardner at madworldseries.com.
You can follow Erin on Twitter @ErinPCallahan.

Jonathan
Hatfull
, author of “Back Home” and “Search
History”

Jonathan spent a lot of time inside as
a teenager, which may be due to his discovering Candyman and
Stephen King at far too young an age. He has an MA in writing from
The University of Warwick and writes about genre film and
television as features editor of SciFiNow magazine. His short
fiction can be found at his too-infrequently updated blog Hatfull
of Horror, and he’s working on a novel that he promises will be
better than the one he wrote at university.

Jonathan can be found rambling
incoherently but passionately about Ginger Snaps, Poppy Z brite and
horror movie sequels on Twitter @JonathanHatfull. He thanks you for
your time and hopes you have a good night.

Joshua
Winning
, editor

Joshua is a film journalist and author
of dark fantasy series The Sentinel Trilogy (available through
Peridot Press). He is a contributing editor at Total Film magazine,
and also writes for SFX and Digital Spy. He is co-founder of the
Night Terrors book series, which launched in 2014 with gay murder
mystery Camp Carnage and continues with 13 Tales to Give You Night
Terrors.

Joshua lives in North London and can
be found online at www.joshuawinning.com and on Twitter
@JoshWinning.

Rosie
Fletcher
, author of “It’s Different When
You Have Your Own”

Rosie is a book, film and television
journalist and editor of Crime Scene magazine. A life-long horror
fanatic she’s the resident horror columnist for SFX magazine and
was a juror on 2015’s inaugural James Herbert Award for horror
writing. She’s appeared as a zombie in a film and been chased by
werewolves in real life, but has not, as yet, been bitten by a
vampire.

You can follow Rosie on Twitter
@TotalFilm_Rosie.

Scott
Clark
, author of “Ad Infinitum”, “One and
Done” and “Store Macabre”

Scott is a film journalist and author
based in Edinburgh. His reviews and articles have been published at
The People’s Movies, Cinehouse, and Culture Fix. Scott’s debut
published fiction appeared this year in the horror anthology My
Favorite Apocalypse (from Tulip Tree Publishing) and he recently
founded forbiddenroom.co.uk, where all his film-related writing is
compiled.

You can contact Scott at
[email protected] or on Twitter @startclock.

Tom
Rimer
, author of “Clown”

Tom is an educator and author living
in Foxborough, Massachusetts with his wife, Kacee, and daughter,
Alice. He is a huge fan of the New England Patriots, reality
television, and the band Styx. He is currently working on a Young
Adult Science Fiction novel that he hopes to soon release on the
world.

You can follow Tom on Twitter
@RimerTom.

Troy H.
Gardner
, editor, author of “Blackened
Fireworks” and “Waiting for the Wolf”

Troy grew up in New
Hampshire and graduated with a B.A. in English/Communications with
a dual concentration in film and writing from the Massachusetts
College of Liberal Arts. He spent ten years working in the banking
industry dreaming up numerous stories to write. When not working on
his writing, which is seldom, Troy conquers video games, or at
least makes the attempt.

He’s published fantasy,
horror, and YA stories with MuseItUp Publishing and horror and
non-fiction film essays through CreateSpace.

You can follow Troy on
Twitter @TroyHGardner.

Vinny
Negron
, author of “Gone for
Good”

Vinny Negron—who publishes
under the pen name Vinny Negron—is an American writer who for years
was thought to be the reincarnation of El Cuco
.
He grew up in the working-class
city of Far Rockaway, Queens, in the shadow of JFK Airport and a
crackhead named Snot Bubble.
When he’s not
writing, he practices stealth from his cubicle, and reenacts scenes
from “A Brother From Another Planet.” Vinny’s fears include
politicians, the O-Town Reunion Tour, and stick
bugs.

You can find Vinny on Twitter
@VinnyNegron.

CAMP CARNAGE SAMPLE

Also available from Night
Terrors

CAMP CARNAGE, a gay murder mystery
by Elliot Arthur Cross & Joshua Winning

In the summer of 1986, Billy
Collins is sent to his own personal Hell—summer camp. The remote
Camp Genesis offers desperate parents a place to “straighten” out
their gay teenagers with the help of the puritanical Katherine
Creevey.

Besides the typical horsing
around, campfire tales and summer games, the Genesis program forces
gay and questioning teens into humiliating gender-based lessons.
While Billy wants nothing more than to escape Camp Genesis, he
can’t help worrying that something even more sinister is hiding
just out of sight.

Unknown to Billy, two campers were
murdered three years ago. Just days after Billy and the new campers
arrive, people start to go missing, and it’s up to Billy and his
new friend Jem to find out what’s really going on. Is a maniac on
the loose? Is history repeating itself? One thing’s for sure—at
Camp Genesis, you have to fight to survive...

PROLOGUE

August 2, 1983

THE
summer heat had eased off and Miles took a grateful breath of
the cool evening air. Back in Dallas, his hometown, the sidewalks
practically sizzled all year round, but even he’d found the
sweltering Colorado weather tough this week. He was glad that being
a camper at Camp Genesis meant he got to wear shorts and a vest and
goof off in the lake most of the time; otherwise he’d have melted
into a gooey monster version of himself days ago. Hell, it was so
hot he’d have worn nothing if he could get away with it. For some
reason, though, the counselors frowned on nudity.

“
Gorgeous, huh?” he sighed.
As much as he hated the anti-gay activities they were forced to
endure there, he couldn’t deny the camp’s beauty.

“
What?”

Beside him, Blake looked blank and
Miles shot him a glare. Blake didn’t appreciate the peace of the
dusky woods like Miles did. He came from Kentucky, where every
sunset was a living postcard. He was taller, barely seventeen, and
his tanned, defined arms gleamed blue in the moonlight. Miles
shoved him, but Blake’s innocent smile made being angry so goddamn
difficult.

Grinning mischievously, Miles tore off
into the woods.

“
Catch me if you
can!”

“
Hey!” Blake called, but
Miles ignored him. He liked being chased. Maybe it was some sort of
residual caveman mentality. Or was it cavemen who did the chasing?
He couldn’t think clearly over the hammering of his heart. Perhaps
it was cave
women
who liked being chased? Either way, he was soon panting and
shimmering with sweat. He had to slow down, but he didn’t
care.

Getting caught was the fun
part.

It didn’t take Blake long to catch up.
Strong hands seized Miles’ bare shoulders and he laughed, tossing
back a head of sandy blond curls. His back hit a tree trunk,
knocking the breath out of him, but then there was Blake, bringing
their lips together. He tasted like cherry pie and chewing
gum.

“
It’s my lunch money, isn’t
it?” Miles gasped melodramatically. “Just take it, please. Don’t
whale on me.”

Blake looked confused for a
moment. His brown puppy-dog eyes widened
—
sweet, simple Blake, so very much the
product of his farm upbringing
—
but then he grinned and bit his lip.
He pressed into Miles, his body heat divine torture.

“
Yeah,” he said. “I really
like, uh, sloppy joes, and…tater tots.
”

Miles laughed again. A bird flapped
over their heads, disappearing into the canopy, which let in thin
shafts of silver light.

They both froze.

“
Miles, what if somebody
catches us out here?”

He grabbed Blake’s ass in both
hands.

“
They’ll have to ask my
permission to spank you, because this is all mine.”

“
Seriously, Miles, we could
get in deep shit.”

For a guy as big and powerful as
Blake, he sure was a pussy sometimes. Miles liked that, though. He
didn’t get to play the strong one often.

“
Come on.” He took Blake’s
hand and pulled him through the woods.

“
Where
—
” Blake began, but Miles held a
finger to his lips.

“
Shhhh.”

They made their way between the trees,
fingers entwined, finally emerging into the moonlight. The lake was
still, like liquid mercury, and a boathouse rested at its
edge.

More of a shack than a
house
. It was that old and decrepit and
Miles felt confident nobody would disturb them there.

“
The boathouse?” Blake
murmured, uncertainty in his voice. “Isn’t it condemned or
something?”

“
What can I say? I’ve
always wanted to act out
The Love
Boat
for real.”

Miles turned the dial on the rusted
padlock.

“
You know the code?” Blake
cast worried looks about them, puppy-dog eyes wider than ever.
Miles couldn’t help thinking it was adorable
—
and oh so ironic.
Miles the bad boy.
His mother would
have a fit if she knew he’d snuck out there with another guy while
the rest of the camp slept.

Good
.

He was in half a mind to
tell her every sordid detail,
just to see
the expression on her face.
That’d
make her take notice, stop harping on about her
own miserable mother. Serve her right for enlisting him at this
ridiculous camp. It was meant to fix him. Straighten him out, so to
speak. Make him a real man.

Real my ass.

“
There,” he said,
brandishing the padlock triumphantly. “Just call me Magnum,
PI.”

The door creaked loudly and Miles
flinched, ushering Blake inside quickly before pulling it shut
behind them.

Miles would have been creeped out
inside the boathouse if Blake wasn’t with him. A lone paddling boat
rested half-submerged in the water, slowly rotting like a
slumbering sailor. Cobwebs looped across the ceiling and junk
cluttered every corner. Rusty tools hung on racks and Miles thought
he saw a mouse skitter away. At least he hoped it was a
mouse.

“
See? Romantic as hell,” he
said with a grin.

“
This place gives me the
creeps.”

“
Don’t be such a
baby.”

“
Want to take my mind off
it?” Blake sheepishly shoved a hand through his floppy black
hair.

“
Grrrrr!” Miles snarled,
pawing at Blake’s chest.

He loved what Blake did to him. Miles
had never been so forward in his life. Back in Dallas, he’d never
have dreamt of talking to a guy like Blake. He’d dreaded coming to
the camp again. Even in the picturesque surroundings, the previous
years had been miserable. But not anymore. This year he had
Blake.

He hadn’t believed it when Blake
showed up all athletic and naïve. Miles had watched him from afar
for a few weeks, admiring the view as the jock strolled around Camp
Genesis, blissfully unaware of the way everybody drooled over him.
They’d barely said twenty words to each other when Miles received
the news that changed everything. His dad was dead. Suicide. It
came out of nowhere. Miles’ dad was the kind of guy who always
looked on the bright side. Miles couldn’t imagine him taking his
own life, but it made sense looking back on it. You’d have to be
unhinged to marry the type of woman his father had.

In the wake of the news, Miles fell
apart. He was only allowed a day off camp for the funeral, and when
he got back, the other campers treated him like a leper; like
something bad would happen to their loved ones by
association.

Blake was different. One day, he
stayed behind to make sure Miles was okay while the others had a
swimming lesson. He’d sat on Miles’ bed and listened while Miles
rambled on in between sobs. Blake had pulled him in for a hug, and
as they held each other, Miles realized Blake had a
boner…