The email arrived on a Tuesday, nestled amongst press releases about a new city ordinance and a celebrity chef opening a pop-up restaurant. Its subject line, “Assignment: Blackwood Creek Disappearances,” was bland enough to be ignorable, but Clara’s editor, a man who subsisted on a diet of caffeine and sensationalism, had flagged it with a rare “URGENT” and a single, emphatic exclamation mark. Just another ghost story peddled by a town desperate for attention, or perhaps a clever cover for something far more mundane, yet equally grim, like serial killings or human trafficking… #Horror #Readers #KU #DellSweet #Thriller #Mystery #Kindle
Earth Date 2096-08-25 16:52:58 Star Dancer Michael He got a good look at Petra as he flagged her through the air-locks: #SciFi #Readers #Kindle #Amazon #SpaceOpera #SpaceTravel
The Old West is a collection of five western themed stories set in the old west. Come along for an authentic trip through the west, the way it really was.
Jimson Jones, Sarah Johnson, The Cowboy, The Farmers Wife, To Hang a Thief
An excerpt from: Sarah Jones
One starless night, the tranquility of Harmony Creek was irrevocably broken. The rhythmic chirping of crickets was replaced by the terrifying sounds of shattering glass and panicked screams. A nightmare descended upon the peaceful farm. The familiar comfort of home was replaced by a brutal violence, a darkness that would sear itself into Sarah’s memory forever.
The newfound resources provided a small measure of comfort, but the shadow of suspicion and mistrust lingered, a constant threat to their already precarious existence. They had survived the attack, but the war within Rapid City had only just begun, a war fought not with guns and blades, but with suspicion, betrayal, and the relentless erosion of trust. #Dystopian #Apocalyptic #Zombie #KU #Audio #Readers #Listeners #DellSweet
In the epoch before epochs, before the first star ignited or the first whisper of thought coalesced, there existed a state of being so profound, so utterly complete, that it defied definition. The very essence of all that could possibly manifest was present, not as individual threads, but as a unified, unshaped whole, a perfect stillness that contained within it the potential for every conceivable hue, every conceivable sound, every conceivable form, and every conceivable emotion. It was a state of pure, unadulterated being, a state of absolute potential, where the concept of ‘is’ was synonymous with ‘could be.’ #Mystical #Mythology #Epic #Fantasy Audible #Kindle
The nightmare would begin insidiously, with the faintest whisper of a sound, a familiar vibration that would build, slowly at first, then with terrifying speed. It was the hum of the engine, the low thrum of the car carrying them towards an unseen precipice. He would feel the familiar press of the seat beneath him, the faint scent of Ann’s perfume, a scent that would soon be overwhelmed by the acrid stench of burnt rubber and fear. Then, the unmistakable sound, the prelude to chaos: the high-pitched shriek of tires desperately seeking purchase on asphalt, a sound that ripped through the fabric of the night and into the very marrow of his bones. #Horror #SciFi #Epic #Thriller #Drama #Kindle #Audible
A look at the town of Glennville. Bobby, Moon and Lois are the central points of this book, but they will also introduce you to their parents, the Sheriff Kyle Stevens and some of the other town locals that make Glennville, Glennville. They are trying to spend the summer enjoying the beauty of the upstate New York town, camping, adventures, all the things three eleven year old kids could do for a summer in 1969. However, Glennville is no ordinary town and there is always something else going on… #Summer #Glennville #Adventure #1969 #DellSweet #Readers #KU
I wrote this song in 2006. It was the first song that I ever wrote. I wrote it as an acoustic song, this version is same tune/chord structure but more energetic, alternative versus rock ballad. And, how can I know which is better? I can't. I like both versions even though both are very different, even some of the lyrics are different between the versions. This was turning a corner for me. I had written music to lyrics that my brother had written, decades ago, but I had never written my own lyrics and then put them to music. I had done many, many covers in different bands as well, and everything from Black Sabbath to Tom T Hall and everything in between. But I had not found my own voice until I wrote this song...
Verse One: I spend most of my time filling the holes in my head. Sitting in this cell thinking about the life I’ve led. It’s all free food and therapy, but I may as well pay for something I can see… This room has a view but all I really wanna do is talk to you… It’s been so long… How could that be wrong? Everything we had was based on sex money and lies. When you left you took it all… Nothing to keep but alibis…
Hook One: What you took don’t amount to much, but I was never fixed in this world anyway… I was just sitting there waiting on a bus for the next… May as well take my time, I got… Plenty of it… Sometimes it runs late… But I ain’t entertaining offers while I wait.
Verse Two: Listen… I Just want to make this right before I go. Pay my bill or at least knock it down, I don’t know. I wish I could set us free from what we’ve done, but I figured it out, I ain’t the only one… Anyway, I ‘m just learning to walk before I fall again. I’ve been working on change, cleaning up some of this sin, but what’s the good in change… If the world’s still strange. Where’s the sense in being me, if what I was is all you see? Couldn’t stand up kept falling down and that little ball keeps spinning around… All keeps falling apart around me… you say, It will be what it will be…
Hook Two: I could never tell you nothin’ real. It was all about me all of the time. It was easier to hide the way I feel, like you were talking on my dime. I used to believe it was easier to hold it all inside… I never gave you anything… And I know how hard you tried…
Verse Three: Spoken: The snow is falling softly, probably turn to rain later… Sky looks that way… The air has that taste. The wind gusts hard as I step in from the cold… Feels like something familiar, but I haven’t got it placed. I find my way to the small corner table I knew would be there… Cast in shadows, but what are shadows for… And there you are, where you never were, and I find myself wishing I could touch your hand, like I could before… But I know it’s just a dream, I can’t touch you anymore. It’s raining in my mind, I can’t reach you anymore. And if I could I’d write this whole damn thing away… But all I can do is dream… It’s another rainy day…
Verse Four: I spend too much time watching the clock on the wall… You know, sometimes it doesn’t seem to move at all… All keeps stacking up… Cut’s into the emptiness that fills up this cup… And that bus is still running behind and sometimes I get so tired of standing here looking stupid… What the hell was I hoping to find… anyway. Thought about hoping a train… Getting there quicker… But thinking like that only makes me sicker… It’s like my life is stuck in A Minor or something… I don’t know what to do about it, but I know I gotta do something…
Hook Four: But I could never tell you nothin’ real… And I ain’t sayin’ nothin new… It was easier to hide the way I feel… Can you see it the same way too? If we never really had it, what was it you pretended… Was it over long before us or only started once it ended?
Witches Bend Seven friends break down on Witches Bend. An area spoke of in whispers because of the horrors that are believed to be there. But horror cannot touch you if you don’t believe in it… True? Maybe not in this horror thriller that celebrates all of the horror genre. The car is dead. As of now, they are not. But the coming hours may change that completely. It may, in fact change that forever… #Horror #Paranormal #Thrtiller #Splatter #Gore #BHorror #Readers
Knock 5.0 out of 5 stars Johnny. The Farm House: My hand is cramping, but I am almost finished. The dead are quiet right now. Quiet as in, not scratching, not trying to get in. #Zombie #Horror #Kindle #Amazon
Mister Bob Mister Bob is a collection of short stories from Author Dell Sweet. Firefight, Private Investigations, A Dress for Janey and the title story Mister Bob. And more. #Horror, Western, SciFi, Apocalyptic #Readers
Zombie Fall Zombie fall is a collection of seven short stories including the title story Zombie fall. These stories have been best sellers on their own but never before offered in a collection. #Horror #ShortStories #Kindle #Readers #BookLovers
Andrea Zurita Andrea, back in her humble dwelling, noticed it too. The birds, usually a raucous chorus at dawn, were unnaturally silent. The insects, a constant hum of life in the humid air, seemed to have retreated. The vibrant colors of her small herb garden appeared to have dulled, as if a fine layer of dust had settled upon them, a dust that wasn’t visible but could be felt, a muffling of the world’s sensory output. She found herself looking over her shoulder, a habit she had never possessed before, an instinctual awareness of being observed, even in the solitude of her own small space. #Dystopian #ApocalypticFiction #PostApocalyptic #Survival #Kindle #Audible
Carl Freeman By Geo Dell A young man slowly spirals down into madness, but he takes his favorite book with him. The book about the end of the world…. The book he is obsessed with… He started to see things. Faces in the shadows, whispers in the wind, the ghostly echoes of his victims. He’d initially dismissed them as the effects of alcohol withdrawal, but they grew more vivid, more menacing. He was no longer alone in his self-imposed exile; he was surrounded by the ghosts of his past, his own personal hell. #Horror #Readers #Amazon #Kindle #KU #Thriller
Rapid City The newfound resources provided a small measure of comfort, but the shadow of suspicion and mistrust lingered, a constant threat to their already precarious existence. They had survived the attack, but the war within Rapid City had only just begun, a war fought not with guns and blades, but with suspicion, betrayal, and the relentless erosion of trust. #Dystopian #Apocalyptic #Zombie #KU #Audio #Readers #Listeners #DellSweet
Dr. Emily Taylor: Or A modern Frankenstein Kindle Edition by Dell Sweet (Author) Format: Kindle Edition The schematics for the neural network were a symphony of complexity, a testament to the intricate beauty and terrifying potential of the human mind. Emily, hunched over her console, felt a profound connection to the data streams flowing before her. Each line of code, each simulated pathway, represented a step closer to her ultimate goal: the creation of a consciousness untethered by the frailties of the flesh, a mind capable of processing the universe at speeds that would leave organic brains gasping in its wake. #readers #Kindle#Frankenstein #Horror
The Vampire Kingdom of Manhattan Kindle Edition by Dell Sweet (Author) Format: Kindle Edition
The whispers of the undead were not confined to gothic novels or campfire stories; they were woven into the hidden history of the city, particularly within the shadowy tapestry of the Valois lineage. For generations, the family had been privy to this ancient truth, a truth that set them apart, a truth that granted them a terrible longevity and a terrifying power. This wasn’t a history learned from books, but a legacy inherited, a curse passed down, a dark bargain that had been struck in the shadows of centuries past, ensuring their continued dominance. #Vampire #Vampires #Horror #Readers #KU #Amazon
The dust swirled around my worn boots, a miniature desert storm kicked up by the frantic thump of my own heart. The air hung thick and heavy, the scent of dry earth and something else… something metallic and sickeningly sweet, clinging to the back of my throat. It was the smell of blood. Old blood. New blood. The kind that stains the soul as deeply as it stains the earth. I’d been clean for six months, six agonizing months of sweat-soaked nights and gnawing cravings, a testament to a willpower I never knew I possessed. Six months of staring at the cracked pavement, avoiding the shadowed corners where my past lurked like a hungry ghost. But tonight, the ghost had found me.
I reached the relative safety of the small office and set down the suitcases. The Mexican stood and slowly shook his head as I approached. I looked down and saw that Kat’s shirt had been cut away. One large hole had punched through her upper shoulder leaving a blue-black, bloodless hole. Her eyes blinked rapidly as I knelt beside her.
“Hey,” I said. She looked at me, pulled another breath and then her eyes slipped shut. She had a small smile on her face as if she knew some secret that I could only guess at.
I froze for a moment and then reached down and shook her shoulders.
“She’s okay, Billy,” The Mexican said. “I gave her something… We need to get her somewhere where I can stitch her up… Or you. Listen, I don’t want to sound hard or as if I don’t care, but right now, unless we want to just give up and die, we need to get ourselves in gear. If it wasn’t one of the trucks that blew by us while we were on that dirt road, and we know it wasn’t that red pickup… someone is still out there, and once they get their shit together they’ll come back for us, amigo. And there has to be some locals of some sort around here, eventually one of them is gonna show up. Federales… Maybe locals… What you need to do Billy is get us another truck so we can get back across the border and make that meeting… Put this behind us,” the Mexican said.
I looked around the showroom. “I don’t see any here, which means I’m going to have to go back outside to find one. Which means,” I looked at the Mexican, “I need you to keep watch in front; I’m going out the back door.”
I walked over to a small plywood board to one side of the double doors, and began to search through the key-tags that hung from it. “Hey, take a quick look out front and tell me whether you see a light green Ram out there, about ten years old or so,” I continued to search through the keys as he looked.
“Si, out by the road,” he replied.
“How about a two-tone red and white Chevy?”
“No veda nada… No, not out here.”
“Good,” I said as I dropped the remaining keys in a heap by the board. I had kept two sets out; apparently, there were two green Ram’s, another out back somewhere along with a tu-tone Chevy that had possibilities. “Okay I’m going to get it,” I said as I turned and walked down a hallway in the direction of the back of the building, I turned back. “Kat?” I asked.
“She’s safe, amigo… Go, I’ll keep watch on her.”
I turned and walked down the hallway through a set of double steel doors and into a small garage area. I searched the garage quickly, but no red and white Chevy or green Ram resided in the shadowy interior. I walked to a set of double steel doors set into the back of the garage, pressed the bar handle, and stepped out into the back lot.
I found the Ram first directly behind the rear of the garage checked the stock numbers and after determining, which set of keys went to it opened the door and got in. A low chiming greeted me as I opened the door. The Ram was one of the upper level models; it was also not four-wheel drive. The tires were not much more than passenger tires and when I turned on the ignition to check the gas gauge the needle stopped just above empty.
“Fuck,” I said to myself. “this one isn’t going to do us a hell-of-a-lot-of good.”
I found the other truck farther back in the lot. It was a low end model; built more with a hunter or some other type of sportsman in mind and much better suited to our needs. Plain stark vinyl interior and the gas gauge leveled out at half when I checked it. Not great, but a lot better than the other truck and we didn’t have the time to pick and choose.
“This is her,” I told myself. I started the truck and drove out of the back lot toward the front of the dealership.
I had been tensed, expecting to hear the chatter of machine pistols while I was out back, and when I drove by the glass encased showroom and saw the Mexican crouched by the side of a car on the showroom floor I breathed a sigh of relief. I just caught his waving hands out of the corner of my eye before two men jumped out from behind one of the trucks in the front row and opened fire on me.
Too late, I thought as I realized I had left the machine pistol lying on the front seat instead of keeping it in my right hand where it should have been. I could hear the sound of a machine pistol behind me as the Mexican opened up. I did what I could. I aimed the truck at the two men; levered the door-handle and prepared to jump just as the windshield hit by several of the rounds fired by the two men was blown inward: My world faded to black.
