The Tears in Reality is a collection of short horror/mystery stories designed to make the reader think.
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1000 tulosta hakusanalla J R Sharp
To the untrained eye, Jericho Diggs' life seems a tragedy. His down low sex-capades have been exposed. He is HIV positive. His wife is in jail. His daughter lives with his wife's sister and her husband, whom he has never liked. And as if this were not enough, the purest love he never allowed himself to embrace in Jordan has finally closed its eyes in sad solitude, and after years of neglect, disappeared before he ever opened his eyes. In light of his misfortune, he decides to move back home to Mississippi, and his sole mission is to gain custody of his daughter. That is until he runs into Adrian. And when the mystery that binds them both to Jordan blossoms into a complicated attraction, they unexpectedly find themselves tangled in the chaotic webs of each other's pasts where secrets, lies and devastating revelations ultimately lead Jericho to the kiss that has perhaps been awaiting him his entire life.
What You Don't Remember Can Get You Killed. He looked into her eyes - and forgot everything about himself. He'd done something that night, but couldn't remember. And she had left him like that. Until she returned as a Homeland Security agent to save him from two cops who wanted him for questioning. Now on the run, in disguise, his memory wasn't returning very fast. Josh depended on this mysterious Rosa to get and keep him out of harm's way as they travelled out of L.A. and into remote backroads of Southern California. There's something about her Josh doesn't understand, or just doesn't remember. Yet. A paranormal action-mystery with empaths, government agencies, and psi-powers. To solve their situation, Josh will have to recover his lost memories. The secret is in her eyes... - - - - From a breakthrough new author, J. R. Kruze, this short fiction explores the lives of psychic empaths working for government agencies... Get Your Copy Now.
(Short read - 30 minutes - 21 pages) Her closest friends didn't know she was dead. Until they saw the full page ad in the paper advertising her funeral. They mystery was in how she died. No corpse, just an urn filled with ashes that was distributed over the harbor without any witnesses. Shown by a slick video played at her funeral. No motive. Just a disappearance. The coroner's report from an upstate, rural county stated natural causes. For a young 20-something advertising executive. But there were no details left unaccounted for. Funeral arrangements paid for inadvance. Even the police chief said it was a closed case. That didn't stop Detective Johnson from being curious. He stopped in to see her partner to answer his many questions. On his own time. The day after the funeral. Get Your Copy Now. - - - - J. R. Kruze is an upcoming author in the Urban and Fantasy genres. More short stories coming every month. Make sure you don't miss them...
An autobiographical chronicle on the making of director J.R. Bookwalter's first 10 movies, from the promising highs of freshman Super-8mm debut "The Dead Next Door" in 1985 to the embarrassing lows of the shot-on-video "Humanoids from Atlantis" in 1992, and everything in-between. In true independent fashion, Bookwalter paints a humbling, honest portrayal of what it was like to produce and market no-budget movies during a challenging time for the home video business, reflecting on early partnerships with Sam Raimi ("Spider-Man," "The Evil Dead") and David DeCoteau ("Puppet Master III,"" Creepozoids"). Now completely revised with all-new content, additional never-before-seen photos, artwork, and more!
An Epic Road Trip and Fantastical Semi-Memoir Living life is nothing that any moron or better couldn't accomplish, even without setting one's mind to it. The trick is to do something with that life. Or live several at once, so that one could at least be a success in one of them. Herbert, having endured his mid-life crisis with all the aplomb possibly available to him, now was set on making a new life for himself. This is his book. Such a book has parallels with our own. That is life for you - it sneaks up on you and drops some odd segue or link into some other person's scene and then just nips away, as if it was mainlining pixie dust or some super-quantum Dune drug. Blue eyes and all. You see, Herbert does live more than one life at once. Shackled to the mundane world of the Midwest warehouse laborer, he yet lives in worlds of extreme science, wild fantasy environments and incredibly sensuous surroundings... Get Your Copy Now.
I died every night. And learned to live forever. Dreams were important, because those told you your past lives. And like the old guy said somewhere, if you didn't learn from your past, you were just condemned to repeat it. I wanted to live each day to my fullest. Because I knew it was over when I closed my eyes to sleep. Each day, I had to learn everything all over again. Because I wanted to make each day last, to do something with my life, to have some satisfaction. To find love became my final goal. Somehow, it's escaped me most of my life. When she finally found me, we both were now writers. Before long, there was something else between us, a romantic mystery that had to be solved. Together, our combined genius might be able to solve it. Maybe. Is it true that ""To deeply love is to laugh at death.""? Get Your Copy Now.
Hunted by evil, her only escape was to find the light, but her broken wings couldn't carry her to safety. Why this tiny, suffering pixie was hunted by a monster troll seemed to be a simple urge - he needed to feed off her energy to keep living. Only a few hours to daylight, when the troll had to sleep to avoid the burning rays of sunlight, or being found by Truth-Seekers and forever imprisoned in stone. After the sun rose, she could heal herself by bathing in sunlight and escape forever. But why was this troll out of his territory and why was he hunting her? Not just his hunger, that much was certain. The troll needed food, but she had a secret message to deliver. And that one message could prevent humans as well as fairies from being enslaved to troll masters after losing the coming war... Get Your Copy Now.
This anthology of stories all are around the fact that animals can talk.Every bit as well as humans.It's humans that have the real problem - listening.There are probably a dozen-dozen reasons why we humans won't simply open up our ears and hear them.It doesn't matter what type of animal - dog, cat, cow, crow, coyote.The other simple fact is: people don't listen, so they don't hear. Voices which are every bit as clear as someone standing next to your ear.Because you don't listen with your ears - you listen with your mind.And then you can hear them clearly. No matter what species. No matter their size or lack of it.Until you can start to hear them, here's the next best thing...Stories about humans who can hear all the voices around them - or perhaps just one.If you can't hear them yourself, you can at least read about them.This Anthology Containing: - Voices by J. R. Kruze- Max Says No by J. R. Kruze- A Nervous Butt by J. R. Kruze- A Long Wait for Santa by C. C. Brower- A Dog Named Kat by J. R. Kruze- Cats Typing Romance by R. L. Saunders- When The Wild Calls by C. C. BrowerExcerpt: THAT MORNING I ROLLED over, bleary and tousle-headed to see my dog Wilma looking back at me."Good morning," the thought came to my head. "If you'd lay off those night-caps we can get your weight down and get a you laid more often."The idea of this brought a smile to my face."Now that I have your attention, let's go for a walk before breakfast. You've got time before you have to go to your work." The thought had a some sense to it. "Of course it's sensible. Now get up, we have to get going. I'll wait until you put on your clothes."At that my golden-haired red heeler, Wilma, stood and went to wait by the door to the room. "Come on, get up. Let's go." And just stared at me.I looked at the clock, saw I had a half-hour before I usually got up to make my breakfast, and rolled over.It only took a couple of tugs before my blanket and top sheet were on the floor.That got my attention. I sat up. My dog let go of the bed clothes corner he had been pulling on and smiled."What are you doing?" I asked, looking at her through my bleary eyes."Taking care of my human," came the reply. "Come on. I meant what I said. It's time to change your habits to make you happier."Couldn't argue with that. Especially now that I was awake. I swiveled my feet over to the floor and felt the cool carpet underneath them."Good boy Let's get those sweats on. You can do it " Wilma was encouraging.Of course I resented it. Sounded like I was in training for something."Of course you're in training. Humans have to be trained every day of their lives. I'm not going to be around forever, so you've got to learn to survive so your next Master will be able to pick up where I left off and hopefully help you retire in grace." Wilma cocked her head at me, wondering if I got it."This is all just a bit new. How, I mean, why, what..." I quit talking and just sent her my thoughts, jumbled as they were."Now you're getting it. We can have all sorts of discussions once you quit using your human speech. So backward and clumsy." Wilma rose and again walked to the door. "Sweats. Socks. Tennies."Scroll Up and Get Your Copy Now.
The vision was always started the same: A strong, certain woman walking toward me through the falling, blown snow.Definite, measured steps brought that mystery woman closer.A pace I was familiar with, somehow.And yet vulnerable.Her sleeveless dress and soft flat shoes would be soaked by these moist white flakes by the time she reached me. Within minutes after, she'd be shivering in the gusts that blew her long hair about her shoulders, and make the long hem of her dress flap like a battle pennant.Just as her walk was that of a conqueror.Her play was not a calculated risk or a chess stratagem.She knew my responses. My gallantry will make me take off my heavy overcoat and wrap it close around her. And she will then fold into my arms as I direct us toward the nearest warm doorway.She knew, I knew - not a number any longer.Excerpt: I shouldn't have been surprised to see the wreckage of that explosion.But I was. We were. The man who in a short time had become my friend and protector - and me.He seemed to hide any reaction to it - or honestly didn't have any.All of my professional life and career was in those ruins.We were there to reconnoiter, to weigh and evaluate the occurrence, to re-experience the devastation first hand.The wreckage seemed absolute.If I found anything that survived that firestorm to take with me, it would have to fit into my hands or pockets.The many books, anything combustible - those were gone. Anything plastic or fusible - they were melted or also gone to ash.The blast-temperature was high enough that little was left. Even the floor was somewhat buckled from the blast heat warping the steel beams beneath it, plus the weight of the pooled water the fire department used to extinguish it.The brisk fall winds had now evaporated or blown most all of the water and ash out that wide open hole in the side of that building.My friend and rescuer was here for his own reasons. And I came along, like I did everywhere now. Because his immediate future was also mine, like it or not.He only stood there now, turning and peering into what we could see. Statuesque, but not a statue.As I stepped carefully among the husks of furniture and fallen remnants of building materials, my polished street shoes were becoming the color of that muddy ash.For it was raining again, and the wind blew that rain back through the open gap where floor-to-ceiling windows once stood to keep all weather out on that corner office.Of course, I was past crying about almost anything left of my former life now. The wetness on my cheek had to be rain or blown mist. Had to be.My foot kicked something that tinkled, so I stopped.The dim light showed some glint in all that sooty ash. We carried no flashlights, nothing to give anyone a clue that we were there. Streetlights and the surrounding buildings gave us any light to see by.A break in the clouds brought the full moon's light across our scene.At my muddy toe was a small globe that used to sit in it's little clear Plexiglas perch on my desktop.I bent, picked it up and wondered if what it held inside was still intact.Shaking it, I heard the rattle. Just maybe.I started to twist and unscrew its two halves, my hands slipping without getting a grip.But then he took my arm...
I had a secret since I was a baby. One that could heal or kill. That was why I'd left two families behind me on that road. One who raised me, but I'd left behind to find answers to questions they couldn't answer. They didn't know where I was now. Another which I'd felt could be my home, but their neighbors said I had to leave. So now I was walking down this abandoned desert highway, looking at an uncertain future. I could only blame myself. And blame my past. Because how my secret worked depended what I thought and felt. But until I could get a grip on what raged inside me, I didn't feel safe around anyone. Not safe for them, anyway. And so I walked. While the empty road - like my empty heart - stretched out in front of me... Excerpt: I waited until we'd finished shutting everything down for the day before I started asking my Mom questions. Of course, the coffee pot and anything electric got shut off, the gas to the grill, and all the dishes washed and put away. That's a lot of alone time, and dish washing goes faster with two people if you work fast and quiet. Gather, wash, rinse, put away. Leapfrogging the stations. Because the faster you get the chores done, the more time you have for stuff you want to do - like talking. I know it wasn't "adult-like" but I still liked holding my parents hands, and I felt they liked it to - more than they knew. "Mom, do you get many new memories of your life before?" "Oh, sometimes. Dreams, sure, but those aren't accurate. And then when I'm doing something, I can get snatches of memories back." "Did you ever get dreams or memories of your real mom?" "Only that she always seemed to be smiling at me. From what I understand, she wasn't around very long. So if all I ever remember of her was a smiling face, then that will be good." "You never met your real dad?"...
New Voices Vol 001 Jan-Feb 2018
J R Kruze; R L Saunders; C C Brower
Living Sensical Press
2018
pokkari
New Tales from New Authors that take you into worlds you've probably never dreamed existed.Midwest Journal Press is proud to announce this anthology of short stories in Fantasy, Science Fiction, Parody and Satire.We present the works of J. R. Kruze, R. L. Saunders, and C. C. Brower, all in one volume for the first two months of 2018This anthology contains: Fantasy and Science Fiction Short Stories by J. R. KruzeParody & Satire by R. L. SaundersFantasy and Science Fiction Short Stories by C. C. Brower Short Stories by J. R. KruzeDeath By AdvertisingHer EyesThe LazuraiA Goddess VisitsA Nervous ButtMax Says NoShort Stories by R. L. SaundersKeyboard in the SkyCats Typing RomanceThe Rise and Fall of President Frump - R. L. SaundersThe Integrity Implosions - by R. L. SaundersThe Maestro - R. L. SaundersShort Stories By C. C. BrowerWhen The Cities Died, I DancedThe CaretakerPeace: Forever WarThe War BringethSnow Cave - Part IThe Emperor's ScribeSnow GiftMr. Ben's New Rail RoadWhen Vacation Plans ReviseLong Overdue SantaReturn to EarthNew characters, new worlds, new adventures. Mysteries to solve. Romances to tempt you. Action adventures out of the ordinary.All ready to transport you to new worlds. Get Your Copy Now.
The body disappeared, the witnesses forgot their stories.And I had 24 hours to solve the mystery before all the evidence vanished.I had no memory of how this all started. Only that I was brought in to solve a mystery in a single day before I had to move to my next assignment. Because I'm a time-jumper. And I go where I'm sent.Because I'm damned good at figuring things out. You don't have to have a string of degrees behind your name to figure out things.The trick is, I "borrow" someone else's body while I'm on the job, for the time I'm here.All I know on this job had a missing corpse already. And it happened when no one was around to see, on a government naval base in the heart of New York. Where sub-contractors came and went constantly.I just had to solve it faster than the witnesses either "forgot" or "disappeared."Like I said, I had only 24 hours.Anthology containing: -The Case of the Time Bent Beau by S. H. Marpel-The Saga of Erotika Jones 01 by J. R. Kruze-The Saga of Erotika Jones 02 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel-The Saga of Erotika Jones 03 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel-The Saga of Erotika Jones 04 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel-The Saga of Erotika Jones 05 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel-The Saga of Erotika Jones 06 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel-The Saga of Erotika Jones 07 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel-The Saga of Erotika Jones 08 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel- The Saga of Erotika Jones Book Universes Notes by J. R. KruzeExcerpt: I didn't want to get out of bed for this new case. I felt tired, the bed was warm, and there was this hunk beside me. Broad shoulders, firm bum, sculptured abs - everything a gal could want.Still, the beeper was vibrating, it's staccato tempo on the side table persistent and annoying.I had my job to do. And under 24 hours, as usual, to see if I could solve this one.So I picked that annoyance up and saw the texts that had come in for me. On her beeper. My host's.That was the trick - I "borrowed" someone's body and ID for the cases that came in. How they did it, the nuts-and-bolts, I didn't really know. Nor did I know my own past - any more. Too many of these jumps had kinda swiss-cheesed my memories.The texts were all from Finn. He was my partner, my bar-buddy, and somehow was connected to the reason I still did this. Still, he made it interesting, and cheered me up when things got too solid and graphic.This morning he'd texted me the body was already missing, already cleaned. Said I needed to get there quick, since we both knew the reasons - the witnesses would be "forgetting" what they saw nearly as quick.Finn had a theory, and it was closer to true than anyone else believed - other than we who lived in the strange worlds where humans and fairies crossed paths, and where we fought the hidden wars to keep humans safe - in spite of themselves. The darker half of the faery kind were organizing for something - and these human bodies showing up and disappearing were just collateral evidence of their larger plan.Somehow. Having a working theory, anyway, was better than having none.My feet on the floor now, I bent to scoop up my underthings and found a too-short cotton bathrobe lay tangled in them. Slipping that on gave me some relative decency...Scroll Up and Get Your Copy Now.
If I didn't rescue him soon, I'd be worse than dead. Just another ghost. Again.But... forever, this time.Because he saved me once, and now it was my turn."Still waiting for him to show up?" Molly refilled my coffee without asking."How do you figure I'm waiting for anyone?" I frowned, puzzled how she knew."Because the way you're nursing that pie ala mode says you care more for what's coming in that door than you do for how that ice cream melts your pie to slush."I smiled at this and tried to spoon up some of the now-gooey mess to my mouth. "That obvious, Molly?""As obvious as my name tag. There's just your one seat in here where you can see who's coming in without them noticing you right off. So you can drop your eyeballs back to that pie real quick if they do."Molly pulled out a cloth from under the counter and pretended to clean a phantom spill. "Besides, I've seen other gals like you in that seat before. Every week. Same place, same time. Hoping when you come in, disappointed when you leave."She then looked me in the eye."But don't worry none. He'll be along presently. Comes every week, just about now."Excerpt: We shimmered into place right outside a diner. Looked like L.A. because of all the asphalt, cement, and palm trees. The diner had a lot of glass and chrome. And it was decorated for Christmas with plastic wreaths and synthetic ribbons.The sky overhead was clear, with a tinge of smog between us, the sun, and the cloudless sky. Still a West Coast idea of what passed for morning out here.Carol turned to me and smiled, then wrapped her arms around me to hug me in a bear grip that showed her relief and thankfulness.Not uncomfortable, though. This was the old Carol I knew better.She let up and pushed back to look at me, her arms on my shoulders."It's been so long, Mary. You look great." Carol's smile was back, and the tenseness had dropped out of her voice.I had to smile in return. "It's good to see you, too. And thanks. Now, what is going on? What's this all about?"A slight frown crossed her forehead. "Now you and I are safe here. The others, well, not so much. Did you get through those books and the briefing file?"I nodded. "Just barely.""I wish you'd had more time, but no one has that luxury anymore. Thing's are unraveling.""How's that?""You saw your old ship?""Sent to salvage, it said, Before John could rescue me."Carol nodded. "That's the problem with most of the Ghost Hunter network. Every since John decided not to join. In fact, he never moved to that farm we all know and love."I was speechless, even though my jaw was open - nothing was coming out. So I closed it."Wait - how did that happen?"Carol hiked a thumb over her shoulder at that diner. "Since he was trapped in there."Scroll Up and Get Your Copy Now.
Fantasy Romances From New Voices
J R Kruze; C C Brower; R L Saunders
Living Sensical Press
2019
pokkari
Escape to happily-ever-afters on a moment's notice -- and stay there for hours or days if you want...This huge anthology of romance short stories all happen in the land of fantasy. Whether worlds where magic rules, or dystopian societies where love conquers technocracies.If you have a weekend for binge-reading, or just a few minutes. You'll be transported to worlds where the only laws are those of the heart.And once that story has tickled your heart strings, maybe there's time for just one more...From two years of published short stories, out of four author's output, this anthology has only one theme throughout - how does the couple get together regardless of the fantastic world around them?Come. Open the first story. Get entranced. Let your heart soar.Romance has never been more entralling than in fantasy worlds - and in small bites.This anthology contains: - On Love's Edge by J. R. Kruze- Root by J. R. Kruze- The Autists: Brigitte by J. R. Kruze- The Case of the Naughty Nightmare by J. R. Kruze- The Girl Who Built Tomorrow by J. R. Kruze- Ham & Chaz by J. R. Kruze, C. C. Brower- The Case of the Forever Cure by J. R. Kruze, C. C. Brower- One Thought, Then Gone by J. R. Kruze- To Laugh At Death by J. R. Kruze- Voices by J. R. Kruze- The Case of the Walkaway Blues by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel- Our Second Civil War by R. L. Saunders, C. C. Brower- The Ghost Who Loved by S. H. Marpel- Story Hunted by J. R. Kruze- The Tunnel People by R. L. Saunders- Becoming Michelle by R. L. Saunders, C. C. Brower- Mind Timing by R. L. Saunders, C. C. Brower- A Sweet Fortune by R. L. Saunders- The Autists by J. R. Kruze- The Caretaker by C. C. Brower- Keyboard in the Sky by R. L. Saunders- Her Eyes by J. R. KruzeScroll up and Get Your Copy Now.
Vampires, Shapeshifters, and Fae... Oh my The supernatural world is out and vibrantly alive. Vampire, Shapeshifters, Fae, and Magical Practioners of all flavors have been out and open to world for over two hundred years. The human race has adapted and so have the preternatural ones. UV proof glass and comapnies that feed the blood drinking populace are common place. Krystianna is a centuries old vampire who is a new town for a major business convention and maybe some adult fun if she can find the time. Someone else has other ideas for Krystianna and when things go south, they go hard. Krystianna's reputation and possibly her life come to risk as all the scattered pieces start to come together. Will Krystianna and her people have to make the ulimate sacrifce or will the truth will out?