"Thlush-A-Lum" has been reprinted for the third time in It Calls From the Sky, a horror anthology from Eerie River Publishing. Published by Eerie River and edited by A. Robertson-Webb and M. River, It Calls From the Sky is available for purchase at 15% off the cover price if you request a quote from Eerie River directly at the bottom of this page, Or you can purchase hardcover, paperback, or e-book versions from Amazon here. Reviews have been great for the collection, and it includes 20+ short stories in all! I’m happy that “Thlush-A-Lum” has found such a great fourth home.

* In September 2018, "Thlush-A-Lum" received its second reprinting! That makes this my most successful short story thus far. This time, "Thlush-A-Lum" formed part of the Fright into Flight anthology from Word Horde.

Links to purchasing can be found at Word Horde's publication announcement here. Or head direct to Amazon.

* "Thlush-A-Lum" was first reprinted by the Centropic Oracle, who produced an audio version of the story, released on December 8, 2017.

You may now listen to "Thlush-A-Lum" for free at anytime--yes, that's right, I said free. Sarah Houghton performs the audio narration, right here: (CLICK ME!)

* "Thlush-A-Lum" first appeared in PULP Literature Issue #5 in 2015.

You can still buy Issue #5 straight from the PULP Literature website, linked here.

It's also available through Amazon. What's "Thlush-A-lum" about, you wonder? It's pure horror that would qualify as flash fiction in most markets. The story came about when I challenged myself to write something more focused on the sense of sound than the other four I more commonly use in my writing. Many of those sounds are inspired by what I could hear from my own Southern bedroom window...and a few sounds that I swear I've been able to hear no matter where I've lived.

The first few lines? Certainly.

Markella's earliest memories are of the sounds outside her window. At hours when no men moved, rustling branches and shuffling grass woke her. A beating pulse like slower, fleshier helicopter blades banished sleep: thlush-a-lum thlush-a-lum. In summers, the heat in her attic bedroom hot enough to incubate, Markella pushed the window open and dozed to the endless static drone of cicadas. In winters, choking radiator warmth wrapped tight around her, she cracked the window and the low, deep hoots of an owl drifted in with the freezing breeze.

The sounds crept in no matter the season.

And you know I like to include a photo to set the mood when I can...