Two Great Reviews for Childhood Nightmares

So, you know, that’s cool and stuff.  One review is posted on Amazon, as well as Knightmist’s blog.   The author says there are “stories that will drive even some adults to pull up their covers.”  🙂  I like that.

A Hidden Stone

by Kim Krodel

The other is on HorrorAddicts.net.  My story “Baby Teeth” even got a shout out!  I tried to reblog, but it must be that time of the month for WordPress.  That, or I need to hold a gun to my computer’s head (or increase my memory).  Maybe both…

-Kim

 

Kim Krodel: On Childhood Nightmares

Kim Krodel: On Childhood Nightmares.

Check out my guest post over on Sirens Call Press’ blog.  It details my inspiration for my story ‘Baby Teeth’ in Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed.

Read my post!  Read it!  (in the Scotts Turf Builder guy’s voice).

 

“Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed” The Ultimate Blog Tour

“Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed”

What immobilizes a child with such fear that they are unable to utter the merest of sounds, calling out for help to make the terrors of the night go away?  Twelve of today’s most gifted Indie authors wrung from their own psyches a series of stories so disturbed and bone chilling that even you may find yourself checking Under the Bed before it’s time for lights out!

Those whispered tales of monsters hiding under the bed, or of the demons lurking in the shadowy corner where we dare not glance for fear that seeing them will make them all too real. Oh, how the innocent landscape of a child’s imagination lends fertile soil to horrors ready to be sown on the slightest of sounds; the tales and the terror they wreak on our youthful minds never quite leaves us.

We asked the authors in this collection to reach into the forgotten recesses of their twisted minds and share with us the tales of nightmares that can only thrive in the hidden corners of a child’s imaginings; the bogeyman under the bed, the outlandishly fiendish creature lurking in the dark, the slight murmur of sound coming from the hall… did you close the door completely?

Explore the myriad terrors that only a child can twist from nothing into some ‘thing’ in the span of a single rapid breath. Do you dare delve into your own memories? Perhaps you’ll start sleeping with the lights on again…

Tell us, who is Under the Bed?

 

Contributing Authors:  Colin F. Barnes, Nina D’Arcangela, Phil Hickes, Amber Keller,

Kim Krodel, Lisamarie Lamb, John McIlveen, Kate Monroe, Brandon Scott,

Joshua Skye, Julianne Snow, and Jack Wallen

If you’d like a copy of Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed, please visit one of these retailers:

Print book:          Amazon.com, CreateSpace.com

eBook:                  Amazon.com, Amazon.uk, Amazon.de, Amazon.fr, Amazon.es, Amazon.it

Smashwords.com (Kindle, Nook, Kobo, Sony, PDF)

 

Three short samples of the tales found in “Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed

 

‘Baby Teeth’  – Kim Krodel

She adds every tooth she gets to her disgusting smile.  But the screws keep growing out of her gums.  She never runs out of space for more teeth.”

“Why does she want them?”  Brian’s voice was small.  His eyes bugged, as if the skeletons stacked in God’s closet were tumbling out at his feet.

“For biting, Dummy.  She likes to eat little kids.”  Cal grinned as he spoke.  “If she bites you with her screws, your skin gets stuck to ’em, so she likes teeth better; so she doesn’t have to floss so much.”

“No, she doesn’t.  She’s nice—she gives presents!  Mom said!”

“That’s what Mom wants you to think.  Otherwise you’d freak out about it.”

Brian blinked, staring and processing; weighing his brother’s words against those he had gathered from adults.

“See this?”  Cal rolled up a pant leg to reveal a jagged run of lumpy, silver skin.  “She bit me hard the first tooth I lost ‘cause I didn’t know what was coming.  Now I’m big enough to fight her off.”  Calvin posed like a weight-lifter…”

 

‘Telling Tales’ – Phil Hickes

“She’s here for yet another visit with her cat, Demdike. None of which sounds too bad, you say? Lots of young boys have stuffy old grandmothers and aunties that they have to put up with. And cats are cute and fluffy.

But Peter’s Aunt Alice scares him. In fact, she frightens him to death. And her cat is just as bad, with fur as black as its soul.

That’s why he’s reluctant to go upstairs; because soon, Aunt Alice will be up to tell him a bedtime story. It’s become something of a custom. Peter was delighted when she first offered to come and tuck him in. Despite feeling a little nervous in her presence, and a tiny bit afraid of her pinched, lined face, white hair and bony limbs, she was a welcome female presence. For the first few minutes it had been enjoyable too. She wrapped the sheets tightly around him, clicked off the overhead light and turned on the lamp. He felt warm and snug…”

But then she began to tell him the stories…”

 

‘Timothy’ – Joshua Skye

Quivering from fear, her teeth rattling in her little head, hands trembling, she stared into the deep darkness to catch any movement; the twinkling of an eye perhaps. Anything to let her know where he was, out there in the darkness. There was nothing for a long time.

“Where are you?” she muttered in a squeaky voice. Something moved in her peripheral vision. She turned. Fast, but not fast enough. Perhaps it was nothing more than a shadow that had just blended with the dark. “Timothy, you stop it. You stop it right now.” She tried to sound like her mother, to mimic her authoritative tone, but it hadn’t worked. Her voice had cracked and it trembled with her apprehension. “I know it’s you,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

She started to cry, she couldn’t help it. Her tears streamed down her tiny face and there was a lump forming in her throat. She had to fight to swallow; she had to fight to breathe.

Timothy began to mock her. “Timothy, please. Stop it, Timothy! Go away, Timothy.” The sinister, scratchy voice seemed to come from everywhere, the shadows, the darkness, under the desk, from behind the stuffed animals, under the bed…”

 

Please visit the Sirens Call Publications web site for an extended preview available for download.

 

Kid Fears: What’s in Your Closet?

My dad was talking about his brother Gary at dinner the other evening.  We went to visit my parents on Saturday and stayed for Easter brunch (complete with copious mimosas) on Sunday.  The topic came up of things that scared us when we were kids.  He brought up “the lady in the closet” that his older brother used to frighten him with when he was little.  First he called her the witch in the closet and then recanted and said that Gary called her the lady in the closet.

My sisters and I decided that “the lady” was far more sinister sounding than “the witch” anyway.  The lady, for me, brings up flashback’s from The Shining and the woman in the bathtub.  A witch is pretty cookie-cutter as far as your visualization.  A lady could be anything, including a witch, but not crammed into just that tiny box.  She could be a zombie.  Or Joan Crawford with her wire hangers.  Or the other mother from Coraline.

Or Cruella  de Vil.  Or the witch from Hansel and Gretelwith her bad eyesight and hot oven, asking you to stick a finger out so she can feel how plump you are.  Or even Lady Gaga (added after she kept popping up in my pictures and I couldn’t figure out why, but, yeah, that would be a nightmare).

Gary died when he was in his twenties.  I think he and my father had only recently gotten to an age where they could be friends instead of an older brother who tormented his annoying, significantly younger sibling.  And then a wayward blast from a fire hose caught my dad’s brother and slammed him into a wall.

“I wish he was still here so I could yell at him for scaring the shit out of me with the lady in the closet,” my dad said the other night.  How awesome would that be?  I’d love to ask him how he pictured her and where he got the idea.  I’d love just to know him.

How about everyone else?  What monsters, clowns, or ladies skulked in your closets when you were young?  Me, I always thought there was some sinister robot out in the hallway because of the ticking of my clock.  Somehow, the noise always got incrementally louder to me, like the robot was getting closer, and closer, and infinitely closer, but never quite there until I was ready to pee myself.  He never showed up at my door, though.  Thank God.  Every time I had to run to the bathroom in the middle of the night I always half-expected to see his sharp metal teeth smiling at me when I opened the door.

Anyway, Childhood Nightmares: Under the Bed is due out in ten days.  I, for one, cannot wait to see what horrors  lurk between those pages.  I’m sure I’ll be up late into the night, reading to the sound of my ticking clock and trying to “hold it in” until the sun comes up.