Asylum Scrawls is a collection by popular horror author Hunter Shea and an author named Norm Hendricks. Mike Chella did the book cover. After talking this over for many years, they finally took the plunge and wrote it just for your mental pleasure. I might not even need to go Trick-or-Treating now!
This really cool collection of horror stories is ONLY .99 cents until Halloween!! Anyone who downloads a copy and lets Hunter know (or doing so by posting on any of my posts about it too, or commenting below) through Facebook, Twitter or his email is eligible to receive a free e-copy of one of his novels.
Asylum Scrawls Collection, Synopsis~
Demonic possession, serial killers, monsters, beasts, the insane and the damned – they’re all here, safely tucked behind the bars of the asylum. These seven tales of the macabre and bizarre are sure to haunt you until the icy fingers of the grave claim you for eternity.
Here’s the Amazon link:
Here’s an excerpt below from story of The Faceless Girl~
The windowpane shuddered, tiny ticks pattering against the glass. It had begun to snow. A chilly finger of wind wrestled through a gap in the wood frame.
“It’s all yours,” I said, imagining how cold it would be if we were wet and naked – at least when Eva and I were wet and naked.
Janice bounded out of the bathroom. “Let’s look at the others.”
It was like a game of one-upmanship, going from room to room, each succeeding ode to the gods of interior decorating richer than the one before it.
“How much does he make a picture?” I asked Eva.
“I think I heard over thirty-five million.”
It was a staggering thought. Each movie required him to be on set for three to five weeks. He made three to four movies a year. I decided at that moment to loathe Mick Harrison, despite his generosity, though in actuality, I felt this weekend trip was a ploy to get Eva into his bed. Was it working? To give voice to my concern would only make things worse. I had to ride it out in silence and give Eva the keys to my trust.
“This is a lot of house for a single man,” I said.
“I don’t think he comes up here alone,” Janice said, winking. I wondered if I should offer Janice to Harrison in Eva’s place. I could see that for her part, it would take little convincing.
A pair of white double doors capped the end of the long hallway, twin portals to a higher dimension. “That must be the master bedroom,” Eva said.
“Maybe we should leave that room alone,” I suggested. “I wouldn’t want him to think we were going through his coke stash or hidden videos of women in his bed. Every man needs his privacy.”
That got a laugh out of Johnny. We had our moments.
“He didn’t say not to go in there,” Eva said, her curiosity getting the better of her. She and Janice placed a hand on the doorknobs. “What do you think?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I think that if you don’t see what’s inside, you’ll leave here with regret. Why, I don’t know, but I do know how you tick.”
“Just open the doors. Who the fuck cares? It’s just another bedroom,” Johnny said.
I swallowed a snide comment before it touched my tongue. Eva gave me an appreciative nod.
“Okay, here goes. This is where the magic happens!” Janice said with a mischievous grin.
They turned the knobs and swung the doors wide.
Eva screamed first. Janice piggybacked on her. Even Johnny grumbled a few choice curses, dropping his beer.
I found myself stepping back before I could see what had caused the raw fear to spread through them fast as a lightning strike. Janice, hopping on the balls of her feet and covering her mouth, blocked my view.
Moving closer, wedging myself between the girls, I experienced a moment of absolute death – my lungs, heart and brain ceased functioning for the space of one, maybe two seconds, but it was enough to douse my body with the chill and certainty of the grave.
It –she? – stood facing us, the guardian of the master suite, an opaque creature of light and shadow. She, yes, it was most certainly a she, wore a knee length dress, the print impossible to discern through the radiance that emanated from her. Small, fine-boned, with long, wispy hair that hung in loose strands past her shoulders.
The problem, aside from the glaring fact that she was not flesh and blood but more of a hologram, like Princess Leia played through R2D2’s tiny projector, was that she had no face. Amid the fine hair of her wavy bangs was a wavering haze, veiling all facial features. She was incomplete in many ways, yet with enough form to prevent any denial of her existence.
Author Hunter Shea, Biography~
I’m the product of a childhood weened on The Night Stalker, The Twilight Zone and In Search Of. I don’t just write about the paranormal. I actively seek out the things that scare the hell out of people and experience them for myself.
My novels, Forest of Shadows, Evil Eternal , Swamp Monster Massacre and Sinister Entity are published through Samhain Publishing’s horror line. I live with my family and untrainable cat close enough to New York City to get Gray’s Papaya hotdogs when the craving hits.
I’m also proud to be be one half of the Monster Men video podcast, along with my partner in crime, Jack Campisi. Our show is a light hearted approach to dark subjects. We explore real life hauntings, monsters, movies, books and everything under the horror sun.
Feel free to contact me any time at firstname.lastname@example.org. Writing is lonely work.