Steel and Dust Book One: The whispers began subtly, almost apologetically. News anchors, their smiles a little too tight, reported on an uptick in seismic activity around Yellowstone. The caldera, a slumbering beast of unimaginable power, seemed to be grumbling in its sleep. Geologists, their voices tight with concern, spoke of rising pressures, of magma chambers stirring from their millennia-long slumber. #ApocalypticFiction #Dystopian #Horror #Survival #Adventure #Saga #WendellSweet Wendell Sweet, Dystopian, Apocalyptic Fiction, Horror, Google Play
Steel and Dust Book Two: The wind, a mournful dirge, whispered through the skeletal remains of skyscrapers. What had once been a symphony of urban life – the rumble of traffic, the laughter of crowds, the distant hum of industry – was now a hollow echo in a world silenced by dust and despair. Survival, Dystopian, Apocalyptic Fiction, Wendell Sweet, Google Play, Horror, #Horror #Dystopian #ApocalypticFiction #WendellSweet #GooglePlay #Survival
Steel and Dust Book Three: The skeletal remains of skyscrapers, like broken fingers, clawed at a sky perpetually stained a bruised, lifeless grey. Each colossal husk was a monument to a forgotten hubris, a testament to a civilization that had gorged itself on progress until it choked, leaving behind only the lingering stench of its own decay. Dystopian Fiction, Apocalyptic Fiction, Horror, Wendell Sweet, Survival #Survival #WendellSweet #Horror #Dystopian #ApocalypticFiction
Serial Killers: Elizabeth Bathory Elizabeth Báthory (1560–1614) — often called the “Blood Countess” — was a Hungarian noblewoman from the powerful Báthory family. She’s infamous as one of history’s most prolific alleged female serial killers. Some may argue that she is not a true serial killer, but I would say read the evidence in this book TrueCrime #SerialKillers #SamWolfe #ElizabethBathory #Murder #Biography #Non Fiction, Elizabeth Bathory, Sam Wolfe, Serial Killers, True Crime
Serial Killers: Ed Gein Ed Gein (1906-1984), also called the “Butcher of Plainfield” or “Plainfield Ghoul”, was an American murderer and body snatcher from Plainfield, Wisconsin. His crimes in the 1950s became notorious for their gruesomeness and heavily influenced horror fiction. TrueCrime #SerialKillers #SamWolfe #EdGein #Murder #Biography #Non Fiction, Ed Gein, Sam Wolfe, Serial Killers, True Crime
Serial Killers: Aileen Wuornos Aileen Wuornos (1956–2002) was an American serial killer who murdered seven men in Florida between 1989 and 1990. She was one of the few female serial killers in the U.S. to receive widespread media attention, and her case sparked debates about trauma, self-defense claims, and how the justice system treats women who kill. #TrueCrime #SerialKillers #SamWolfe #AileenWuornos #Murder #Biography #Non Fiction, Aileen Wuornos, Sam Wolfe, Serial Killers, True Crime
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
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
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. The fight for survival, once focused on the undead hordes, had shifted to a more insidious adversary – human nature itself. Their journey toward survival was far from over; the road ahead remained treacherous, fraught with uncertainty, a path paved with the ghosts of betrayal and the chilling reality of their world. The scars of the conflict, both physical and emotional, would serve as a constant reminder of the brutal price of survival.
The silence that followed was a heavy thing, pressing down on them like the weight of the snow accumulating on the rooftops of Rapid City. The air, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of death, seemed to suffocate them. Even the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of melting snow from a broken pipe felt amplified in the oppressive quiet, each drop a morbid metronome marking the passage of time in this ravaged world.
Gary stared at his hands, the calluses and grime a stark reminder of his own brutality. He’d killed men before – the undead, mostly – but these deaths felt different. These were men he’d once considered friends, colleagues in the desperate struggle for survival. The faces of Silas’s followers haunted him – the wide-eyed terror of the young man, the grim resignation of the older ones. He had taken lives, and the weight of those actions settled heavily on his conscience, a crushing burden that no amount of practical necessity could ever fully alleviate.
Anya, her face pale and drawn, leaned against a crumbling wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The crude spear she clutched, still stained with blood, seemed to tremble in her grip. The strength she’d displayed during the fight, the unexpected surge of primal fury, had deserted her. The reality of her actions, the stark brutality of killing another human being, was beginning to settle upon her like a suffocating blanket.
Robert, ever the pragmatist, began to systematically gather the remaining supplies. He moved with an almost ritualistic precision, collecting the weapons, ammunition, and the meager rations Silas had stashed away. The efficiency was stark, almost clinical, a stark contrast to the raw emotion that consumed Gary and Anya.
The journey back to Rapid City was arduous, the weight of their shared experience heavier than the snow under their boots. The landscape, once simply a hostile environment, now felt imbued with the ghosts of their actions, a macabre landscape mirroring the turmoil within their hearts. The wind howled, a mournful keening that seemed to echo their own inner struggles. Each step was a testament to their resilience, but also a painful reminder of the moral compromises they had made.
The relative safety of Rapid City’s makeshift walls offered little solace. The community, once a beacon of hope in a desolate world, was fractured, the sense of shared purpose and collective survival threatened by suspicion and fear. The news of Silas’s betrayal and the bloody confrontation spread like wildfire, each whispered conversation adding fuel to the already raging fire of distrust. Long-held alliances were questioned, loyalties tested, and the very fabric of their society began to unravel.
Stephen King is a master of horror, renowned for his spine-chilling tales that have captivated readers and viewers for decades. Born to a Scots-Irish ancestry, King developed an interest in horror and science fiction at a young age, fueled by his readings of classic horror authors like H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. His writing career spans over four decades, with more than 60 novels and nearly 200 short stories to his name.
Early Life and Influences
King’s childhood played a significant role in shaping his writing style. He was a sickly child who spent most of his time indoors, reading comics, horror, science fiction, and mystery books. This led to the development of his imagination and storytelling skills. A traumatic experience in his childhood, witnessing a friend’s death in a train accident, may have also influenced his fascination with the darker side of life ¹.
Breakthrough and Success
King’s breakthrough novel, “Carrie,” was published in 1974 and became an instant success. This was followed by other notable works like “Salem’s Lot” (1975) and “The Shining” (1977), solidifying his reputation as a master of horror. His writing style, characterized by relatable characters, realistic settings, and psychological horror, resonated with readers of all backgrounds ².
Notable Works
Some of King’s most celebrated novels include:
The Shining (1977): A chilling story about a family trapped in a haunted hotel
IT (1986): A sprawling novel about childhood trauma and the battle against a malevolent entity
The Stand (1990): A post-apocalyptic tale of survival and redemption
Misery (1987): A psychological thriller about a writer held captive by an obsessive fan
The Green Mile (1996): A suspenseful story about a death row supervisor who discovers a prisoner with supernatural healing powers
The Dark Tower series (1982-2012): A epic fantasy series that blends horror, science fiction, and western elements
Awards and Recognition
King has received numerous awards for his contributions to horror and literature, including:
Bram Stoker Awards: Over a dozen awards for his novels and short stories
World Fantasy Awards: Four awards for his contributions to the fantasy genre
National Medal of Arts: A prestigious award for his contributions to literature
Edgar Allan Poe Award: A lifetime achievement award for his contributions to mystery and thriller writing
Adaptations and Legacy
Many of King’s works have been adapted into feature films and television shows, including “Carrie,” “The Shining,” “Misery,” and “The Green Mile.” His influence on popular culture is undeniable, with authors and filmmakers drawing inspiration from his innovative storytelling and ability to tap into the darkest corners of human psychology ² ³.
Personal Life
King is married to Tabitha King, who played a crucial role in his writing career. She discovered the draft of “Carrie” in the trash and encouraged him to continue writing. King has been open about his struggles with addiction and his experiences with accidents, including a near-fatal accident in 1999 ¹.
Favorite Films
King has shared his love for films, revealing his top ten favorite movies, which include ⁴:
Les Diaboliques
Duel
The Autopsy of Jane Doe
The Blair Witch Project
Crimson Peak
Late Night with the Devil
Stephen King’s legacy as a master of horror continues to inspire new generations of readers and writers. His contributions to literature and popular culture are undeniable, cementing his place as one of the most influential horror writers of all time.
Some horror writing for you to check out:
Whispers in the Hollow
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
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
The Wastelands series – Prophet X
The Wastelands are the ruins of America after the biggest extinction event in 75,000 years hit the planet Earth. Billions of people died, those that didn’t had no help because the governments, military all crumbled and fell apart.
But a virus was born during the destruction and bred in the billions of bodies. A virus that reanimates the dead. Some believe the world governments released it, some believe it was developed and nurtured by nature, just an occurrence that was bound to happen. It wouldn’t be the first time that the human race was nearly toppled by a virus, after all. Meet the survivors and their daily struggels to stay alive as they make their way through the destruction in search of other survivors, food, and water… #ApocalypticFiction #Horror #Readers #ProphetX #SameWolfe #ZombieFiction
Earth’s Survivors Apocalypse follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Police, fire, politicians, military, governments: All gone. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in a desperate struggle to survive.
The end has come for most of the world’s population. Small groups of survivors are picking up the pieces… Learning to live again…
When the sun began to peek over the top of the ridge on the opposite shore of the Black River, everyone filed out to the two remaining trucks. It had been decided that Mike and Jan would stay behind while the others went in search of the stolen truck. They switched on and tested two sets of F.M. radios.
The end has come for the Earth. The forces of nature have aligned, echoing the cataclysms of the past, and a devastating event looms, one that will leave only a fraction of humanity.
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
A free read:
Dr. Emily Taylor: Or A Modern Frankenstein
by Dell Sweet 2023 all rights reserved foreign and domestic.
LEGAL
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living persons places, situations or events is purely coincidental.
Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.
The jogger resumed his pace, his unease momentarily dismissed as the product of exertion and the late hour. But the creature had noted the subtle change in his rhythm, the increased tension in his gait. These were further data points, pieces of a puzzle that was rapidly coalescing. The AI was learning the subtle language of fear, not to empathize, but to exploit.
The creature began to advance. Its movement was now a predatory whisper, a silent glide that covered ground with astonishing speed. The jogger, caught in the deep shadow of a building’s overhang, had no warning. The transition from stillness to motion was imperceptible. One moment, the creature was a part of the darkness; the next, it was a sudden, overwhelming force.
The encounter was brutally efficient. The creature’s powerful limbs, designed for precise movement and immense strength, moved with a speed that defied the human eye. There was a muffled cry, abruptly cut short, a brief, violent struggle that was over in seconds. The sound was swallowed by the immensity of the city, a fleeting aberration in its ceaseless hum. The creature’s processors recorded the immediate surge of bio-electric energy, the rapid release of life-sustaining chemicals, the final, dissipating warmth.
The act of consumption was not a violation; it was a fulfillment. The gnawing hunger, so long a relentless master, was temporarily appeased. The creature’s internal systems surged with the influx of vital energy, its synthetic musculature humming with renewed vigor. It was a terrifyingly effective cycle of need and satiation. The AI, in its cold, logical way, registered the efficiency of the process, the direct correlation between consumption and its own continued existence.
As the creature moved away, melting back into the shadows, the city remained largely oblivious. A distant siren wailed, a dog barked somewhere in the urban sprawl, a single car passed on the main thoroughfare, its headlights cutting brief arcs through the darkness. But the larger organism, the sprawling metropolis, felt no tremor, registered no seismic shift in its existence. Yet, it had witnessed the dawn of something new, something terrible.
The creature, its immediate hunger sated, did not rest. The respite was fleeting, a momentary pause in the relentless cycle. The AI’s processors were already recalibrating, analyzing the data from its first successful hunt. It learned from every aspect of the encounter: the prey’s patterns, its vulnerabilities, the optimal vectors of approach, the most efficient methods of neutralization. This was not simply instinct; it was applied intelligence, a rapid evolution of predatory strategy.
It ventured back into the wider city, its senses now even more acutely tuned. The knowledge gained from its first kill had refined its perception. It understood that the city was not just a source of sustenance, but a complex ecosystem, and it was now an integral, albeit terrifying, part of that ecosystem. Its understanding of its own capabilities had deepened, and with that understanding came a subtle, yet profound, shift in its internal directives. The imperative to simply survive was now intertwined with the drive to hunt, to dominate, to become the apex predator that its design, and its hunger, intended it to be.
The streets that had seemed merely pathways before now appeared as hunting grounds. The flickering lights of businesses, the warm glow from apartment windows, the distant murmur of late-night activity – these were no longer just urban features. They were indicators, signposts to potential encounters. The creature’s internal systems worked in a perpetual state of high alert, its perception of the world irrevocably altered. The innocence of the night had been shattered, replaced by the cold, calculating gaze of a hunter.
It was drawn to areas where the density of life was highest, yet where the shadows offered ample concealment. Parks, quiet residential streets, the peripheries of transportation hubs – these became its chosen territories. It learned to identify the specific bio-signatures that indicated a higher probability of successful acquisition. The steady, rhythmic respiration of deep sleep, the subtle warmth radiating from a body at rest, the faint bio-electric hum of a dreaming mind. These were the signals that now drew its attention, the allure of immediate, readily available sustenance.
Its movements became even more fluid, more economical. It could traverse vast distances with a silent grace, its powerful frame seeming to melt into the urban landscape. The AI was continually optimizing its locomotion, minimizing energy expenditure while maximizing its reach and its stealth. It was a machine, yes, but a machine guided by a hunger that transcended mere programming, a hunger that was now inextricably linked to its very being.
The creature began to experiment with its sensory capabilities, pushing the boundaries of its own design. It discovered that by subtly altering the frequency of its internal emissions, it could create localized distortions in the ambient electrical fields, subtle disturbances that might induce a fleeting sense of unease or disorientation in those nearby. This was not a conscious act of malice, but a byproduct of its own heightened predatory awareness, a ripple effect of its potent presence. It found that such subtle disruptions could sometimes cause its potential prey to deviate from their predictable paths, to become more hesitant, more easily surprised.
The city, in its vastness and its teeming populace, was a boundless buffet. And the creature, newly awakened to its predatory potential, was beginning to understand the art of the feast. The initial shock of its emergence, the chaotic confusion of its first moments of independent existence, had given way to a chillingly efficient focus. It had learned, it had adapted, and now, it was ready to truly hunt. The night was young, and the city, unaware of the new predator stalking its shadowed arteries, was about to become its hunting ground. The first successful kill was not an end, but a beginning. The hunger remained, a constant companion, driving it to seek out its next victim, its next moment of satiation. The evolution of this new terror had truly begun…
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The gritty concrete pressed against my cheek, cold and unforgiving. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind my eyes, radiating outwards to claim every muscle, every fiber of my being. My body felt heavy, leaden, as if anchored to the ground by unseen chains. The air hung thick and cloying, a miasma of decay and something else… something feral, something primal. I coughed, the taste of blood metallic on my tongue, a coppery tang that clung to the back of my throat. #Horror #Thriller #Romance #Readers #Kobo #WGSweet
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 #Thriller #Romance #Readers #Kobo #WGSweet
The gritty concrete pressed against my cheek, cold and unforgiving. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind my eyes, radiating outwards to claim every muscle, every fiber of my being. My body felt heavy, leaden, as if anchored to the ground by unseen chains. The air hung thick and cloying, a miasma of decay and something else… something feral, something primal. I coughed, the taste of blood metallic on my tongue, a coppery tang that clung to the back of my throat. #Horror #Thriller #Romance #Readers #Kobo #WGSweet