“Shitty Almonds” now available in BUGS — Teaser & TOC here!

BUGS FINAL COVER 10-28-2014

What happens when a jealous bridesmaid is in charge of the wedding favors? Find out in “Shitty Almonds” which is now available in Great Old One’s Publishing’s most recent anthology — Bugs.

Here’s the full Table of Contents. On a more somber note, this contains the last complete story by Lawrence Santoro — most recently known for his podcast Tales to Terrify, but just one hell of a writer. Don’t miss it!

Spider Designs — Esther M. Leiper-Estabrooks

Darkling Roast — E.G. Smith

The Ants Go Marching — Derek Neville

Operation Parasite — Patrick Lacey

The Flea Jar — Layla Cummins

The Place of Strong Current — Philip C. Perron

Carapace — Gregory L. Norris

Organically Grown — April Hawks

Flyweight — Jason Hunter

Suffer the Pigs — Daivd Tasker

Contamination — Karen Dent

Hillgrim Falls — Melissa M. Gates

The Children of Romani Phoneutria — M.J. Preston

Skeeters — L.T. Travelstead

Invasion — David Bernstein

Nika’s Nest — D.B. Poirier

A Chittering in the Forest — Lawrence Santoro

The Bug Lady — Erin Thorne

Spider Men — Ben Pienaar

Jesus Saves — Kyle Rader

Base 001 — Eric S. Brown

Shitty Almonds — Kristi Petersen Schoonover

Scorned — Christopher Beck

Bug Boy — Roxanne Dent

The Little Things — Sara Fowles

The Venom of Vanity — Jessica J. Herrera

The Man Who Cried Spiders — Scott T. Goudsward

Humbugs — Patrick Rea

An Invasion in Nashua — John Mack

The Buzz — Charles Day and Peter Giglio

Metamorphosis, Not Metaphors — B.E. Scully

Ellie’s Little Darlings — Tracy L. Carbone

Dead Lilacs — Judi Calhoun

Baby’s Breath — Sydney Leigh

 

 

Want a teaser?:

Shitty Almonds

My stepdaughter Cecilia curses the ground behind our house as she hauls a plate-sized rock from the earth. “Ma, this is beyond bad. Even for Rhode Island.”

“Maybe that’s why you never planted anything there before, Seal.” I sip a mint julep and admire her other work: a rose-necklaced trellis, a budding vegetable garden, a stand of Echinacea, and a ewe bush labyrinth. Even as a child, Seal had a green thumb. “You’re always saying you can smell a bad patch of earth from miles away.”

“That’s true. I wouldn’t have thought of planting anything here unless you asked me.” She digs some more, scrapes her shovel on another rock, stops, and laughs. “Oh nice, Ma.”

“What?”

“That’s the ultimate! Fill the ground with rocks and then get me to dig and dig in this one spot! Well, since you didn’t fool me, you owe me lunch.” She hefts the rock to her right side. It makes a thud against the ground.

Seal and I have been playing practical jokes on each other since I married her father when she was nine. I forget how many lunches are on the tally—if victim falls for it, victim buys; if victim calls it, joker buys—but I suspect I’m ahead since she’s accusing me of something near impossible. She must owe me a lot of lunches.

“I do not owe you lunch, because I didn’t do it.”

“My ass.”

“How would I have gotten the rocks in there? Does it look like I’ve dug a bunch of holes there recently?”

“Well, you do have a tendency to be a bit of a Houdini. Shit. I need a drink.” She brushes her palms on her shorts, grabs her glass, and guzzles what’s left in it. “Which reminds me. What trick we planning for Dad’s birthday this year?”

We team up to prank her father and her husband, Jack—they’re both easy targets. Let’s just say holidays around here are pretty interesting. “I haven’t thought about it yet, actually.”

“I got an idea.” She sets her glass down. “Let’s go to Pleasant Surprise Saturday and hunt for inspiration. We can have lunch, we can shop—we can cook up a good one. They have a book down there that tells you how to do one with a lawnmower and feathers and hamburger meat.”

“You’re on.” I raise my glass. She picks up and clinks her empty one with mine.

The phone rings, and I move to get off the chaise.

“Don’t, Ma. You relax. I’ll get it.”

She steps inside and through the slider I hear her voice, muffled, but clearly in the same tone she would address a stranger.

“It’s someone,” she steps back outside, “named Bev.”

I’m stunned and leap to the conclusion that this might be one of her jokes. But then I remember I never told Seal Bev exists.

“Ma?”

I pour myself more julep. I’m going to need it.

“Want me to get rid of her?”

“No.”

She hands me the phone.

#

This Preying Mantis was on a friend's doorknob several years ago (I don't remember which friend it was, so if it's you, reach out!)

This Preying Mantis was on a friend’s doorknob several years ago (I don’t remember which friend it was, so if it’s you, reach out!)

You can get Bugs on Amazon in print here and on Kindle here.

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About kristipetersenschoonover

A ghost story writer who still sleeps with the lights on, Kristi Petersen Schoonover’s fiction has appeared in countless magazines and anthologies. She has received three Norman Mailer Writers Colony Residencies, is a co-editor for Read Short Fiction, and co-hosts the Dark Discussions Podcast. Her work Skeletons in the Swimmin’ Hole is a collection of ghost stories set in Disney Parks; her horror novel, Bad Apple, was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She’s also a member of the New England Horror Writers Association. More info: www.kristipetersenschoonover.com

Posted on January 12, 2015, in News, Short Stories and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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