Book Bundles Sale!

So like many indie published horror authors these days, I've started offering Book Bundle sales of all my horror novels/novellas. Each Bundle comes with a special Roseblood bookmark, plus signed/personalized. I'm looking into getting more free swag like sticker labels or magnets of my book covers. 

Here's what I'm offering: 

Book Bundle 1-- The Ravening/Night of the Pumpkin God -- $35 (shipping included). Payable via PayPal.

Book Bundle 2 -- Roseblood/Bloodletting/Bloodlust (the Roseblood trilogy) -- $40 (shipping included). Payable via PayPal.

Hit me up via DM on social media if interested, folks! Thanks! 

Bloodlust, the Final Roseblood Novel!

So it's been a long road getting this horror novel published. But alas, Bloodlust has finally been unleashed! As of this past weekend, the ebook went on sale with the trade paperback to follow by midweek. Originally I had plans to release this last fall (by Halloween) but a major hurricane named Ian decided to pound much of Southwest and Central Florida. My parents home in North Fort Myers (where I grew up) suffered serious roof damage, including some minor flooding in the living room, and numerous trees and foliage on their property destroyed. As a result during my mid October week off from work (when I'd planned to get Bloodlust ready to be released), my brother and I, along with three buddies from Tampa, drove down with chainsaws and other tools to clean up the damaged and fallen yard debris. We spent the day filling up the cul-de-sac with a veritable mountain of Ian-destroyed tree limbs, tree trunks, and whatnot. Fortunately, it was a cool, overcast early fall day and not the usual 100% humidity and blazing hot. Thankfully my parents got very lucky considering many homes we saw driving in had complete and total damage inside (and out), with street after street of houses with piles of water damaged furniture lining the curb amidst tons of ripped out drywall. And most if not all had roof damage since Cat 5 Ian did its worst. Several months later, my folks are finally getting their roof replaced. Here's a photo of the debris pile in the cul-de-sac.

Anyway, I'd decided to postpone releasing Bloodlust, the final Roseblood novel, until after the busy holidays (working in retail, this was a wisely sane decision). And because I'm just as busy for a month or two after Christmas, it made more sense to push Bloodlust to a more realistic March release date. And of course when you're an indie published horror author working with an editor and cover artist/book designer, schedules have to align since they're busy folks and have other clients too. So, here we are...at last!

Bloodlust, as the title header above states, is my 3rd and final Roseblood novel. While not nearly as popular or bestselling as my other horror novels, these books (and Rose Valentine herself) are near and dear to me. As I'd written in the Afterword to Roseblood, the character of Rose Valentine appeared in my first ever published horror story called "Roseblood." Many years later I'd wanted to explore that character more and wrote a new story. My exceptional editor at Hook Of A Book, Erin Al-Mehairi, read it and told me there's much more of a story to be told, even one for a novel, and as always and with most things, she was absolutely correct. If it wasn't for her deft suggestion, this trilogy simply wouldn't exist. That's why Bloodlust is dedicated to her. Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention my cover artist, Rebecca, at atrtinkcovers.com, who also happens to do the interior design for all my books. She's fantastic and I'd highly recommend her as well. 

These horror novels have been such a blast to write, as well as some of my most challenging. After the first novella, I wanted to really explore the character in more depth, especially with the third one. I didn't just want to rehash the same type of thing from the previous books, but show some growth, and put Rose in a situation she'd not yet encountered. I believe I did that, not to mention putting her through one helluva emotional wringer. Sorry, Rose...forgive me! 

For those interested, my books can be found here and here. Also, I do have digital review copies for horror book reviewers and bloggers, so feel free to hit me up via social media! 

And for those of you who've read and reviewed my books over the years, my deepest and sincere thanks. It's much appreciated! 

Under the Yuletide Moon

So it's been a while since I've written one of my holiday themed horror stories. Had an idea for something in the week leading up to Xmas and started writing it but wasn't able to finish and edit it til after the holidays. Without further adieu, here it is. This might be my favorite of all my holiday horror stories and hope you enjoy! 

Under the Yuletide Moon 

Copyright 2023

Christmas had come and gone, and the new year was just day or two away. The moon was full, glowing in the velvety black sky like a cold eye and casting its pale light to the forest below. Winter arrived and fresh snow had fallen just hours ago. 

The man left his cabin, bundled up against the wintry elements, and made his way deep into the quiet woods. He lived alone and made these once monthly trips by himself, his way of dealing with those deadly urges that had plagued him for nearly two decades. 

Far enough into the snow-covered woodland that no one else would hear or see him (his nearest neighbors were miles away), he took a deep breath, the icy air searing his lungs and lifted his face to the night with eyes closed. 

He could feel it. The power and pull of the moon. His skin had already begun to itch and ripple beneath his clothes. 

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Moonlight shone in them, and his uttered a low moan. His fingers worked at the zipper of his heavy coat, shrugging it off, and then tugged at the buttons of the flannel shirt beneath. Next he yanked off the plain white t-shirt and took off his jeans after removing his boots and thick wool socks. 

Naked, he shivered under the moon's harsh ashen glare. He wouldn't be shivering for very long. 

The man growled as he let it come. 

The change. What he became at this time every month when the moon was full and the allure of the hunt, and the ravenous beast inside him, begged for release...no, demanded it. He couldn't resist it even if he tried. 

That's why he came to live in this remote heavily wooded region of his home state. Because to live anywhere else would mean a death sentence to some unlucky soul who happened to cross his path. 

They'd end up horribly ravaged, mutilated, killed. And partially devoured. 

The man was a werewolf. And he refused to kill another human being. When he'd first been cursed, it had happened, more than a few times, as he'd struggled to understand what afflicted him, and that nearly caused him to end it. To kill himself. Put a gun to his head and blow his brains out. He wouldn't even need a silver bullet because he knew a mortal wound such as that couldn't be repaired.

But he didn't. Instead he immersed himself in research about his horrific new reality. Hundreds of hours pouring over books and the internet. Nothing could be proven as real and accurate but he devoted himself to finding answers even when he knew in his heart there wasn't any. 

That's when he sold his home in the city and bought the cabin. He figured at least he could scrape by in his solitary existence and satisfy the bloodthirsty hunger without killing another person. Instead, he'd transform into the furry, clawed, and fanged bestial creature of myth and superstition and slaughter whatever woodland animals he'd find. He even hated doing that but it was far better on his conscience and sanity than killing his own kind.

Now, on an early post-Christmas morning, he allowed the change to come forth. As always, the transformation hurt but it also happened quickly. Flesh and bone were reshaped as thick black fur sprouted all over and he lifted his snout to the moon and howled.

And that's when he smelled something different. It was another night creature but yet not. It was pungent, musky, unique, but not entirely like one of the forest denizens.

The strong scent was more akin to another werewolf. He'd never come across another like him before.

Low and deep, he snarled and surveyed his surroundings, yellowish eyes narrowed to slits.

The snow covered trees around him were cloaked in shadows despite the bright moonlight burning down from above. At first his keen sharp vision detected nothing even as the redolent odor of his own kind filled his quivering nostrils. Then the nebulous dark off to his right shifted and moved ever so subtly.

A shape moved out of the trees, slightly hunched over, and glared hungrily at him with slitted yellow eyes much like his own. It growled at him. 

He returned the growl, but more guttural and deep in tone. His muscles bunched as he tensed for the eventual attack. Razor tipped black tipped claws flexed. His gleaming dagger like fangs slavered with ropy strands of saliva. 

The other werewolf was big but not as large as he was. And unlike his heavy dark fur coat, this one had a thick pelt of lighter fur, almost white in the moon's ambient illumination. 

And there was something else. He was momentarily awestruck by this stark, sudden revelation. 

The other was a female. It was smaller in form and size, yet bigger than an average male, leanly muscled, but clearly a female werewolf. The fur covered breasts and lack of a penis made it abundantly obvious.

The man didn't want to launch his own attack but would defend himself by this unexpected and not unwelcome visitor much like himself. He was wary but intrigued. And his primal self reacted in other ways as well. He couldn't resist and he wondered if she felt the same. 

The female werewolf stood her ground but stopped her fearsome growls. She didn't spring at him with deadly claws and teeth. 

They stared at one another across the snowy ground. 

Tentatively, almost as one, they approached each other. Both remained cautious and tense yet in moments as they gazed at the other, muscles loosened and relaxed. 

Fresh snow flurries began to fall around them. And together, they raised their snouts, mouths cracked open...

...and they howled under the Yuletide moon. 

Year In Review and Beyond!

Happy 2023, folks! Since I don't do the traditional Best Of lists as far as favorite books and all that, I will say that I've enjoyed much of what I'd read. Some more than others but I'm pretty choosy in what I pick from my ever growing TBR mountain. 

2022 was a mixed bag for me. Easily the most challenging year for many reasons, mainly with my full-time job becoming much more demanding and leaving me both physically and mentally exhausted most days. But I still love what I do and enjoy interacting with my customers when it comes to recommending books by other authors. 

2022 started off in the most unexpected and lovely way for Casa Kosarich. We adopted a bonded pair of one year old cats, brother and sister, after a mutual friend who volunteers at a no-kill cat shelter gave us a heads up. We'd planned on adopting another cat after we lost our beloved 18 year old Mag the previous November but these two were too good to pass up. And once my wife and stepdaughter saw pictures of them online, it was pretty much a done deal. Prince and Salem took a little bit to acclimate to their new digs but they did so fairly quickly (Prince burrowed into the bottom shelf of my Stephen King bookshelf on the first day at his forever home). They fill our lives with much laughter and love daily and we are truly blessed to have these beautiful creatures in our lives. 

As I usually do, I'm always working on a new book/writing project and at some point editing a new one for upcoming or near future release. This past year should've seen the release of my 3rd and final Roseblood novel called Bloodlust. Originally it was supposed to be a late summer or early fall release. But because I also work with an editor and cover artist/book designer, I also have to adjust my schedule to gel with theirs, which I'm happy to do. Unfortunately, in late September and early October, my home state of Florida got hit by two hurricanes, one of which devastated a large portion of southwestern and central Florida, including where my folks live and the house where I more or less grew up in. Not going to lie, when you discover your elderly parents are riding out a Cat 5 hurricane, it leaves you feeling terribly helpless and scared as hell. You don't have to be a creative to conjure up worst-case scenarios but it doesn't help either. Needless to say, and thankfully, they survived but not unscathed. Ian tore up much of the overgrown jungle of a yard, knocking down several trees or damaging many that had to be taken down. Also the house suffered some water damage (limited to just one room, though) and roof damage that will require it to be replaced eventually. My brother in Tampa, plus 3 of his closest buddies, and myself, spent a day in mid-October with chainsaws and other tools cleaning up most of their yard and filled up the cul-de-sac with a small mountain of tree and plant debris. 

But I'd already decided to put off releasing Bloodlust until maybe by the holidays. Usually when I'm prepping to release a new book, I take some time off of work. That way, I have a week to get final edits done and coordinate any last minute details with my editor and or book designer. But being increasingly busy at work getting ready for the holidays, and being out of town helping out my folks made that too much. And it didn't take long for me to decide not to rush the new book during the hectic Crazy Season, and just push it back (or up) to early 2023. 

Anyway, so that's my year in review! Bloodlust is still slated for late February or early March. Then I'll focusing on finishing up a nasty little horror novella called Rebirth and starting my own edits on Island of Devils, my followup to The Ravening. Although I think I'll release Rebirth later this new year and will most likely push the latter to 2024. Island of Devils is the biggest/longest horror novel I've written to date (well over 500 pages) and was a blast to write, but it'll require some work to get it where I want it to be. Eventually, I still have plans to release two story collections. One will be called The Nightmare Season, collecting some of my previously published short stories and a few unpublished ones as well. Also I have a collection titled No Laughing Matter, which ties in my two ebook shorts Clowning Around and The Last Chord with several other original stories featuring the supernatural being known as Tricksy the Clown (or Mister Tricks) and Mister Black. 

As always, much thanks to anyone and everyone who's purchased, read, and reviewed my books. Can't thank you enough! 

To those new to my work, you can find my Kindle ebooks here, and my ebooks and trade paperbacks on BN.com here! 

Fifty-Five is the New...?

So where the hell did FIVE years go? Seriously? I usually don't make a big thing about birthdays (I mean, who really does as you get older) and as my 55th quickly approached, I remembered when I turned 50. I posted about it here, which you can scroll back and read if you're really, REALLY bored. 

Back then, I'd just started out on my indie self publishing venture, put out a couple ebook shorts that my friend and editor Erin Al-Mehairi had so kindly helped me with. And that started our wonderful professional relationship as editor and client (along with her partner Tim, who's awesome to work with). I'd been working on the first draft of my scifi horror novel The Ravening five years ago, and had been close to completing it. Mister Jack, my Halloween horror novelette, would come next and then Roseblood. And because Mister Jack had been my most popular work to date, I wrote Night of the Pumpkin God, my first full length horror novel and followup to Mister Jack. 

Again, if you're really bored or just mildly curious, my last blog post back at the beginning of the year was to promote my latest horror novel, the 2nd book in the Roseblood trilogy called Bloodletting. In my usual rambling on style, I explain how my first-ever published horror story called "Roseblood" became the horror novella Rose Blood. Do check it out, but more importantly, stay tuned because the 3rd and final Rose Blood novel Bloodlust will be out later this year!

In five years, I've produced and self published two full length horror novels and three novellas, not to mention several short stories and two more books that need to be edited/revised. One is Island of Devils, the followup to The Ravening, which in its first draft form is my longest book to date (even edited, I suspect it still will be) and two, is of course Bloodlust, which will be a full length horror novel. 

I also broke into horror anthologies with a story in each three volumes of the Books of Horror Community Horror Anthology, part of the hugely popular Books of Horror FB group.

Not too shabby for five years worth of hard work. 

One of my biggest challenges is standing out to some degree amongst all the other extremely talented newer crop of Horror authors and growing my readership. I'll probably be launching an email newsletter in the coming year to help with that. Moreover it's not so much book sales as it is getting book reviews, which in turn helps the former. At the end of the day, I just want folks to enjoy my work, post an honest review, and hopefully buy my next book (or other books of mine). That's not too much to ask, right? 

As for the next five years, who knows? I'd like to eventually do much less self publishing and focus more of getting my work in with an indie horror publisher. Five years ago, it was all about getting my name and work out there, but doing it myself (with the help of an editor and professional cover artist and book designer) is an expense that I can afford. But it is an expense. Besides the forthcoming and future novels mentioned above, I also want to self publish two short story collections, The Nightmare Season, and another centered around my demonic entity (featured in my ebook shorts Clowning Around and The Last Chord) entitled No Laughing Matter. There's also a horror novella called Rebirth that I'm toying with, sort of a fun side project that may get written by the end of 2022, but we'll see. 

As always, you can find my ebooks and trade paperbacks on BN here. And my Kindle ebooks here. Book reviewers that are interested can always reach out to me for a digital ARC of any of my books. Thanks so much for showing an interest in my books and of course for reading them!

No Ordinary Rose!

 Back in the mid-90s, I wrote a short story called "Roseblood." A year or so later it became my first published horror story, appearing in a little rag of horror zine called Impaler. Yeah, that Impaler. Apparently they liked my story enough with its loosely vampiric overtones to want it in their zine. I was proud of achieving this first step, and added a few more small press horror publication sales over the years since then. After a long drought in writing for a variety of reasons (honestly, I never stopped writing, but for a variety of reasons, I'd not submitted any short stories for publication anywhere for a while), I took a step into the self-publishing world about a decade ago and haven't looked back. In recent years, I've had a couple short story appearances in the popular Facebook group Books of Horror Community Horror Anthology, Vol. 1 thru 3. I'm quite proud of that. Still have work to do, getting more of my books in reader's hands, more reviews, and breaking into the indie horror small press market instead of self-publishing my books.

But honestly, it all started with this seductively deadly serial killer named Rose Valentine aka Roseblood. I revisited that short story several years ago, found it lacking in some ways like many early efforts, and considered rebooting it. Since "Roseblood" took place in the late 80s, I decided I wanted to write a more recent tale and alas, "A Rose's Prick on a Bleeding Heart" was born. I shared it with my editor and friend, Erin Al-Mehairi, who liked it but as always with her deft editorial eye, told me there could be more of even longer story here if fleshed out. She wanted to know more about Rose. I gave that serious consideration and it didn't take long for me to write the short novel Roseblood. 

So for me, while not nearly as popular or bestselling as Mister Jack, Night of the Pumpkin God, or The Ravening, Roseblood has always been one of my favorite stories because Roseblood was the first. And Rose Valentine had more stories to tell, too.

When I began writing Bloodletting, the 2nd Roseblood novel, I already knew I'd probably write one more Roseblood book. Shortly after finishing Bloodletting, I'd already come up with a title and some story notes. The 3rd and final Roseblood novel will be called Bloodlust. I expect that to be finished sometime later this year and most likely see publication late 2022 or early 2023. 

Book bloggers or reviewers, please do hit me up for digital ARCs as I'm happy to do so. Or if you've read any of my books, I'd appreciate a honest review posted on any of the usual venues. Thanks for reading my work as it means the world to me! 

My ebooks and trade paperbacks are available here on bn.com! Signed copies can be purchased directly from me and payable via PayPal, too.

My ebooks for Kindle can be found here!

Josie's Prank Night

So, here's a little Halloween treat (no tricks) from me to you, especially for fans of Mister Jack, my Halloween horror novellette. Enjoy! 

Josie's Prank Night 

Copyright 2021

The resident "witch" of Summerdale normally hated Halloween. For a variety of reasons, some of which had been widely known to a handful of townspeople that were old enough to still remember the decades past stories about her. 

Of course most of those old tales concerning her and her long deceased mother and her murdered lover Jack Delacroix, aka the infamous local boogeyman otherwise known as Mister Jack, were mostly false. Only Josie knew the truth and only a few others did too. Those numbered less than the fingers of her arthritic right hand. Except for the rancher still kicking it on his property at the outskirts of town, once a former lover when she was much younger and still had her looks.

So, Josie didn't just despise the autumnal holiday because of what it represented and those ghastly memories tied to her parents...no, she hated it because of the kids that started coming around, bothering her, playing Halloween pranks and disturbing her relatively quiet existence. And scaring her cats, too.

For years after the personal tragedy that afflicted her mother, and for years after Josie entered this world until her mother died, no one bothered her. Sure, the stories abounded but it hadn't been until she was on her own and trying to just live her life that the kids started coming around. At first it was merely innocent curiosity. But soon the inevitable Halloween mischief began. 

Then it stopped, thankfully, as the sixties came and went with all the social strife and the war. The seventies had nearly come and gone before the latest crop of ne'er do wells decided to harass the crazy, witchy old cat lady living in the woods outside of the town proper. 

And now here came the 1980s. 

She hoped this new era of peace and prosperity would give her another break from the annual fall tradition the high schoolers liked to call Prank Night. Seemed like the allure of the newfangled MTV channel and video game arcades, along with the usual nonsense young people with raging hormones got up to since time immemorial, wasn't simply enough.

Last Halloween, it had been awful and the kids a bit meaner and disrespectful. One of the little bastards broke a front window, not to mention the aftermath of broken eggs that had been tossed at her old ramshackle house. 

Josie vowed that if those same kids or a new crop of them came around this Halloween, she'd have a little Prank Night fun of her own. 

She'd spent time considering her options, least of which was actually employing some of what some would call black magic. Sure, she could do that because she had her mother's witches journal, her Book of Shadows, which sounded more ominous than it really was. But there were things in there that would more than do the trick. Josie had many times thought about resurrecting the restless ghost of her father, but even if she could, that kind of magic always came with a price. And she just wasn't prepared to do that, even if she could.

No, she'd let her beloved father have his final rest, one whom she'd never met in this plane, such as it was. Besides, Josie got the impression that her mother, blessed be her soul, would most likely not be happy if she attempted that.

Josie sat on her front porch, smoking her pipe and sipping her own blend of strong herbal tea and mulled over what exactly she was going to do for Halloween. 

Suddenly there came a loud and distinctive meow from just off her rickety porch. It was Shadow, one of her newer feline additions. She lost count these days but she had at least two dozen cats now. Some stayed inside or hung around her overgrown yard, hunting for mice or lizards. Shadow was just over a year old by her estimation, nearly big as a medium sized dog, and black as midnight. Hence the name. She'd never bothered with coming inside but seemed happy to sometimes lay on the porch for neck scratches from her new mistress. She would wander away to hunt in the woods around her house and occasionally be gone for a few days. Recently she'd gotten into a scuffle with another feral cat or some other woods critter and had one ragged ear for her trouble.

However this Halloween would be her first with Josie. Shadow loved Josie. She sometimes got quite territorial when any of the other cats got too close to her. She was fairly protective of Josie as well.

Josie stood up and stepped off her porch, holding her smoldering pipe. She watched as Shadow sauntered around to where her overgrown garden lay behind the house. Her wizened eyes spied the top of her scarecrow who she'd long nicknamed Jack. 

A sly and wicked smile spread across her lined, leathery face. 

*    *    *

Jeremy and Nick had longed planned for this night. Hell, it was easily their favorite time of the year besides summer break and they couldn't wait to pull it off. 

Both were seniors at Summerdale High and had of course known about the Halloween tradition of pranking that crazy old woman named Josie. Supposedly, she was a witch who lived in the woods outside of town with a bunch of cats. They'd never been out there yet and while they'd always wanted to do this, now was the time. Next year would be college and away from Summerdale and on with the next chapter of their young lives. 

If only both their girlfriends were more enthusiastic about their ghoulishly fun All Hallows Eve plans. Carla and Stacy were less than happy about it, tried excusing themselves from it, but both Jeremy and Nick had convinced them to begrudgingly go along. 

Besides, both boys needed their girlfriends as eye witnesses.

They'd picked up a couple of cheap rubber Halloween masks for the occasion and other necessary supplies: a case of Budweiser swiped from Nick's father's garage fridge well stocked most of the time (he wouldn't miss it), a carton of eggs, and a camera that Jeremy's sister hadn't bothered with in months. Jeremy added two bags to their Prank Night gear. One bag full of fresh dog shit collected from the big back yard his 5 year old Rottweiler Butch made his daily deposits in and the other full of rotting mangos. The latter was in the front side yard and the damned thing sprouted so much of the tropical fruit every year (for years!) that his folks couldn't give it all away and Jeremy grew to hate the stuff. His mom was always trying to slip the fruit in every freaking thing since he was a kid.

Now they were sitting in Jeremy's Chevy Blazer after they'd picked up the girls, who sat in the back. Stacy asked about the beer, which was in a cooler behind her in the cargo compartment and as she turned around, Carla wrinkled her nose and made a face. Both girls hadn't bothered dressing up for the occasion, but instead wore regular date night clothes: Stacy in Jordache jeans and a button up blouse and Carla in a short skirt and matching top. Both wore tennis shoes. 

"Ewww, what's the smell?" Carla said.

Jeremy chuckled and thought of that old southern fried rock song as Nick popped in his current favorite cassette: Shout At The Devil by Motley Crue. He reached back his arm for his girlfriend to beer him as Jeremy drove them to the outskirts of town and their destination. 

"Seriously, guys...what's that horrible stench?" Stacy asked. She handed a beer to Carla, and handed one up to her boyfriend Nick. Jeremy would get his once they reached Josie Howard's place. 

"Just a bag of Butch poop," Nick told her. "We'll drop it at the old bat's front door and set it on fire. Then when she opens the door and stomps on the flames, I'll take a couple pictures! Man, this'll make us Summerdale High legends!" 

Both girls groaned and rolled their windows down. Stacy popped open the tab on her beer and said, "Not a very smart idea if you burn her place down." 

"Yeah, you'll be real legends, alright," Carla agreed. She rolled her eyes and tilted her face to the open window next to her. The slightly cool but humid night air provided some relief from the dog crap stench. She opened her can of Bud and sipped it. 

Stacy giggled. She tapped her Bud against her best friend's beer can. 

"Oh knock it off, you two," Nick said. "This is just Halloween fun. It's just a Summerdale High..."

"...tradition," Carla replied, cutting him off. "Yes we know, you've already told us that. Have you given any thought that she might just want to be left alone? She's just some weird lady who lives in the woods with her cats. Witch or not, she's probably tired of all this Halloween nonsense every year. I'd heard that she shot at kids one year, too." 

Stacy nodded her pretty brunette head. "Same here. Bet they got what was coming to them, the stupid jerks."

Jeremy groaned as the intro of the Crue tape started blasting to the self titled hit. "Whatever, but we won't be stupid and she's probably a lousy shot anyway. Besides I got my piece with me if she does." 

Nick turned to look at his best buddy. His dark eyebrows raised. "Really? You brought the Ruger Twenty two?"

Jeremy nodded. His Dad--a gun nut and seasonal hunter--bought him the target pistol for his sixteenth birthday. But Jeremy grew up with guns, knew how to shoot and had his own hunting rifle and shotgun. The Ruger was sweet, fun to take target shooting plus the ammo was cheap. He'd tucked it on his seat before leaving his house.

Both girls started to protest, to show their displeasure at Jeremy bringing a gun of all things to this Halloween prank. In fact, they wanted Jeremy to stop and take them both back home. This was ridiculous and really a bad idea!

"Relax, both of you, for fuck's sake," Nick said, sighing aloud. "We're not going back and we'll have a blast. You'll see!" He wanted to add that afterwards they'd find a nice secluded spot to park and have more beer, maybe fire up the big fat joint he'd bought from Scotty at school and then they'd see where things progressed after Prank Night. He'd brought a rubber, too. 

"Yeah, what Nick said," Jeremy added and braked the Blazer and started to turn the wheel. They'd been traveling down a darkened two lane road and hardly any other cars passed them. 

"Besides, girls, we have arrived," he said with a rather sinister chuckle. Nick reached over and killed the heavy metal tunes. 

Jeremy drove off the road and down a dirt road choked with trees on either side. Headlights from the Blazer pierced the thick, heavy darkness as Jeremy slowly proceeded down the lane barely wide enough for his truck. A few times scraggly branches scraped the sides of the vehicle like skeletal fingers and both Stacy and Carla rolled up their windows, shivering at the sound. From the deep night shrouded woods came the sursurrus buzzing of insects and God knows what else. 

It all spooked them. They drank more beer. 

"How much farther is it?" Nick asked, his face set with excitement.

"Just a little ways, I believe," Jeremy told him. "Around a bend, but maybe we should pull over before then, get out and walk the rest of the way. What do you think?"

Of course, the girls didn't like that idea at all. 

And the boys suddenly wondered if bringing them had been such a good idea, even if after they both might get laid. Probably but all the complaining was starting to ruin the Prank Night mood. 

"Screw it, just drive right up," Nick said, exhaling his mounting irritation at the backseat complaint committee. "We'll lob the eggs and stuff after we drop off Butch's Halloween contribution. Take a couple quick camera shots and then leave. Sound good?"

Jeremy grinned. "Sounds like a mighty fine plan."

"Just make it quick," Stacy said. "And for God's sake, don't even think about using the gun, Jeremy!" 

Carla nodded. "She's probably harmless, too. All those stories about her and that boogeyman...what's that name again?"

"Jack. Mister Jack," Nick replied. "My old man and his Dad grew up hearing those old ghost stories. Just a bunch of bullshit if you ask me. Stuff they made up to scare kids is all that was."

"Like Freddy Krueger or something?" Stacy asked. She hated horror movies, even if her boyfriend loved them. Freddy was his favorite. He took her to see that movie against her wishes and she had nightmares for weeks.

"No, not really. Freddy's a bad ass!" His second favorite was that Jason dude in his hockey mask, even though that signature look didn't appear until the 3rd movie. His older brother liked that Halloween movie with the Michael guy in the plain white mask, but he didn't think it was all that scary.

"Okay, guys," Jeremy said. "We're about here, so let's pipe down unless we want to warn her ahead of time." He'd suddenly killed the headlights as he slowed the Blazer to a crawl. 

Everyone craned their heads around to see anything after the Blazer's lights went out, and at first, they couldn't see much except blackness surrounding them. Then their eyes adjusted to the inky gloom and thanks to the moon washing ashen pale light down over everything that they could pick out details.

Jeremy brought the truck to a halt and left the engine idling.

Up ahead and to the left stood a little house with a sagging covered front porch. A twisted oak tree sat right off the porch, gnarled branches reaching out close enough to touch the wooden railing. 

All the windows appeared darkened and most likely the old woman was already in bed asleep. Or maybe she'd died or moved away. 

Only one way to find out, Jeremy thought. He pulled up closer and turned to Nick. He nodded and Nick climbed out to walk around to the rear cargo door and opened it. 

Jeremy got out and joined him, and both donned their Halloween masks. Jeremy wore a big skull mask that glowed in the dark and Nick had on one that looked liked a deranged, pale-faced killer with bloodshot eyes and wide toothy grin.

They gathered up their "supplies." Both hummed with the thrill of what they were about to do. Nick clutched the bag of doggy-doo and the camera while Jeremy grabbed the bag of rotten fruit and the eggs. 

In tones, they quickly discussed their plan of action. First the bag of Butch crap at the door, then they'd lob mangos and eggs at the house. That would certainly wake the old bat up, then they'd hopefully snap a few pictures of her stomping out the flaming shit. 

Then they'd get out of there. 

Both boys knew their Halloween exploits would gain them legendary status amongst Summerdale High classmates and when the pictures got developed and passed around, Jeremy and Nick would get talked about by others at the school for years! 

As Nick cautiously approached the porch carrying the bag in one hand, he stopped just a few steps away. He hadn't noticed it before but suddenly he saw several sets of yellowish eyes glinting in the ambient moonlight. Her cats. Most of them came from the deep shadows of the porch but a few sat in the pools of darkness in the weedy grass. Then he saw the carved pumpkin sitting beside the front screen door. It glowed faintly with the guttering candle inside.

Shit, he thought. That's pretty spooky.

A few of the lounging but wary felines grew restless and moved at the approach of this stranger. Nick hesitated on the stoop. Did a few of them meow threateningly at him? 

"What are you waiting for?" Jeremy whispered. "Hurry up!" 

Nick cast a quick and slightly annoyed look (which obviously his best friend couldn't see because of the mask) back at Jeremy before facing the porch, pumpkin, and small army of cats. 

Quickly, he stepped up and placed the bag next to the pumpkin in front of the screen door. As he stepped away, turning to step off the porch, he thought he heard cackling laughter emanating from somewhere inside the house. Or was it out back? He couldn't tell. He reached inside his jeans pocket for the book of matches. He'd light one and go back to drop it on the paper sack. But he hadn't realized just how damned old this place was, looked to be completely wooden and Nick suddenly felt like his girlfriend's warning had some merit. Christ, if they weren't careful they'd set this dump on fire! 

"Come on, man...do it!" 

Jeremy was starting to piss him off. He wasn't the one holding the matches having second thoughts about potentially burning down the old witch's hovel, for fuck's sake! 

Nick started to walk over to him when he heard the noise again. Well, a noise and it definitely was coming from behind the house now. 

"Hey, Jer, did you hear that?" 

Nick couldn't tell from the mask if he had and he reached up to pull his own mask off his face. Jeremy did the same. 

"Why'd you take the mask off? What are you talking ab--?"

Then it came again. That sound, only louder. It was a terrible howling sound that made both boys freeze in their tracks as they eyes swiveled to the murky shadows along the left side of the house. 

Jeremy yanked off his mask. "What the hell...?"

Nick saw it first because he was closest. His eyes widened and dimly, he thought he heard the girls asking them what was going on. Thought he heard one of the passenger doors creak open. He opened his mouth to warn them to stay inside but then whoever had gotten out saw it too and screamed.

Nick felt like loosing a very unmanly shriek himself.

The figure creeping out of the darkness was tall and skinny. Dressed in rags with a big misshapen head. The head of the thing was huge like the pumpkin sitting on Josie's porch, and it's eyes seemed to glow with some inner hellish light. The closer it crept, making that horrible sound like cats or dogs being tortured, the more the moonlight revealed its form. Nick nearly wet himself when he saw what was clutched in one bony hand: a wickedly sharp looking machete.

It lurched forward at him, maybe a dozen feet away. Nick cried out shrilly and before for the Blazer. 

As Nick climbed into the passenger seat, calling out for Jeremy, his friend hesitated for a moment before he turned away to get behind the wheel. The girls were crying, telling him to get them the hell out of there, but in a moment of testosterone fueled bravado, he grabbed the Ruger .22 under his seat.

He'd been startled for sure, maybe even a bit scared at first, but another part of him thought this was Josie herself in disguise. In fact, he'd bet on it. 

Brandishing the pistol, he turned to face the gaunt, grim, pumpkin-headed ghoul bathed in the light of the Halloween moon. Fuck, if that thing didn't really have a Jack O'Lantern for a head. 

"What are you doing, man? Let's get the fuck outta here!" Nick yelled. The girls screamed, crying.

Jeremy began to point the gun at it, at her, at Josie, the Old Witch of Summerdale, but didn't shoot. Was this really her or...Mister Jack? He wasn't really going to shoot her, was he? Or...it? If it was the local boogeyman, would bullets even stop it?

Goosebumps rippled over his skin and he broke out in cold sweat. His finger caressed the trigger. 

Fuck this! 

Then a low growl came at him, but it wasn't that thing. Sometimes else and it leapt at him, big and black, eyes flashing like narrowed yellow pinpoints and Jeremy felt the gun fly from his hand as something struck it. Then he felt pain, sharp agonizing pain as teeth and claws ripped into his hand, his arm, blood spurting...

He screamed himself and flung his arm around as the huge black cat attacked him, biting and clawing, even its back claws raking across his belly, slicing through his shirt. Finally it let go and he fell back, scrabbling for the door. He tugged it open and got inside. His bloodied hand shook as he fumbled for the gear shift. Outside the truck, there came howls and snarls and he didn't dare look at it...

"Just go, man, go!" Nick begged him.

Finally his blood slippery hands got the truck in gear and tromped on the gas. He might've scraped the Blazer against some trees or bushes but he didn't give a flying fuck. He just wanted to get gone from here.

As they quickly departed, Nick looked back once more. He never said anything to either his best friend or his girl. In fact, neither of them talked about that night. But as rounded the bend, he thought his saw something else. 

Of course it could've been his eyes playing games with him, being so frightened, or a trick of the moonlight or something.

But before the truck made the turn and he lost sight of the house, and the ominous figure with the pumpkin head, Nick thought he saw something else. Another figure behind it. Tall. Shadowy. With eyes that glowed lambently. 

Naw, that couldn't have been anything more than his frenzied, terrified imagination, right?

After all, it was just Halloween.