Lucky Dark asked local authors to imagine past relationships as monster stories. They really didn’t disappoint. I edited this anthology and I’m so proud of this monstrous little book
We are having a release party next Wednesday and you, dear reader, are invited. Details here
Here’s an excerpt from my contribution to the book: “Hung like a Headless Horseman.”
It wasn’t even so much that his head wasn’t attached to his body, it was that he kept leaving it everywhere. At first she didn’t even care. She didn’t like the glassy look in its blue eyes anyway. The jagged severed neck bled all over the counter while she was trying to do the dishes. To help out. Since she was crashing here. But just for now, just until she figured out what to do next.
Sometimes it talked, or tried to. It sounded wheezy and dead. It sounded like what mothballs would sound like if they were trying to make small talk while dripping on the Target brand cookware. She wondered if it wanted a drink. So didn’t want to touch it, though, and she couldn’t figure out how she would do that without getting close to it. Ugh. She gave up on the dishes and wandered back to the bedroom to get stoned.
The headless body was super hot. All perfectly bad fitting plain clothes covering slim but muscular sun brown limbs. It played guitar in a band called The Horseman. When she met the band a few weeks ago, after all that shit went down with Kate, she had liked him right away. She reached out to shake hands but he bumped into her arm and just pulled her into a tight full frontal hug. She felt every line of him against her and stared into the space above the bloody neck stump.
She smiled. She could feel everyone tense up. She knew what they were thinking, what they’d say later. Fuck them. She ran her hands down the arms where they held her around the waist and decided to do it. She hooked a finger through his belt loop and pulled him over to her mini-cooper. Luckily she already knew where he lived. Everyone knew where he lived.