Morgan plays in the myths and legends of our culture like a child playing in an old abandoned house. She explores the darkness, laughs at the shadows, gleefully celebrates the creepiness, and gingerly dances on creaking wooden floors never fearing she’ll fall. Morgan reuses the known to create the new, giving fresh life to age old terrors and delights. There’s a page-turning and side-splitting thrill to reading her work as the monsters that once hid under our beds now crawl beneath the sheets to draw close to us.
I was in the back of the cop car trying to explain that no, actually, I do NOT make a habit of giving blowjobs in the bathroom of east side bougie Italian restaurants when I realized he was about to blow again. My boyfriend has a condition, okay? It has some sort of science-y name even though its like super rare, like so rare they had to get out the fat dusty actual books and look up how diagnosing used to happen in like ancient papa new guinea or some shit but I just called him my sex bob-omb.
Read the full story in Peach Fuzz Magazine
Three original stories. One beautiful chapbook from Awst Press.
Necromancers Don’t Say I Love You
For one thing, hearts were gross. Bloody and heavy. He stared at the mess in his hands. It was big, bigger than he thought it could be, and it beat with a steady sleepy rhythm. He was naked. In whats- her-name’s bed, which was covered in some gauzy crap and fucking twinkle lights. He was in a fairyland hell. Blood was seeping down his forearms now, but somehow seemed to be invisibly pumping life to the girl laying next to him…
She never meant to touch the mannequin. Not like that, anyway. She had to touch it, of course, it was her job. The Hot Topic was a revered place in Lubbock. An answered prayer to all the baggy jeaned teens in too much eyeliner and an assortment of cheap body jewelry. Its neon sign shined like a beacon in the South Plains Mall: bring me your goths, your gamers, your punks. They played uncensored music. In the mall…
The boy at the door was young. Maybe twenty-two, with dirty hands and an enthusiastic smile. Marlene kept the chain on and stared him down.
“Uh, hi. Are you Ms. Winters?”
She inclined her head slightly.
“Hello. I was hoping you could break my heart”…
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…
Looking For Someone To Love
Having always been fond of westerns, it seemed natural to Kate to become a Zombie Herder. She had a horse, a gun, and at any given time about a hundred zombies in various states of decay. She herded them from her ranch outside Lubbock, to the edge of the quarantine in El Paso, where she smuggled them out in exchange for supplies unavailable to the quarantined area…
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I live stream writing fiction some week day mornings over on twitch. Come say hello in the chat and I’ll name and then kill a character after you.