Good old ‘Gus’ got a reboot and a spit-shine for Pen of the Damned this year so I figured why not reshare it with you fine people.

A little Halloween fun – ‘Gus’ style! A short by me, your deranged host, Nina D’Arcangela.  😉

Pen of the Damned

Muttering to himself as he always does, ole Gus shuffled to the basement door, pulled it open, and carefully descended the barely lit stairs. Once in the subterranean cavern – as he liked to imagine it – he began searching the dusty shelves for boxes marked ‘Halloween’ in Ester’s neat, tidy handwriting. God rest her soul. Given what a pain in the ass his wife had been in life, he’d never thought he would miss her nagging so much now that she was gone. Oh well, done is done, can’t dwell on the past. That’s the way he’d always lived his life, no reason to go changing things now. If he could just get that damned Priest from their church to stop ‘dropping in’, he could finally catch up on his shows. That old coot would do just about anything to get a little extra change on the Sunday…

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Scattered Ramblings

Scattered Ramblings is a collection of flash fiction horror by random members of Pen of the Damned – please, enjoy!

Pen of the Damned

The Process

Plunging the blade deep into the abdominal cavity, I drive it upward until I hit the xiphoid process. Twisting slightly to my right, I skirt the sternum and slice through the costal cartilage attaching the ribs to the breastplate. Careful not to puncture the internal organs, I stop my upward motion at the manubrium. Drawing the sharpened metal along the topside of the upper-most rib, I listen to the harsh breathing. Returning to the original point of entry, I pause, then again thrust into and through the abdominal wall, swiftly separating the flesh and muscle from the body’s left side.

Laying the knife on the tray, I reach down and peel the cavity open with a great deal of force. A slight groan escapes amongst the pops and rending sounds as the connective tissue still in place rips away to reveal the fluttering heart. A marvelous thing the…

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Maxwell’s Cellar

Mess with the wrong guy, and you could find yourself in the cellar! Maxwell’s Cellar, by Lee A. Forman – horror author and member of Pen of the Damned.

Pen of the Damned

“Brett, wake up.”

His voice echoed, came to my ears from great distance.

“Wake up, you worthless slag.”

Cracks of light burned my eyes. Slowly they grew until I saw the familiar boots of Sam Brooks. Those stupid fucking skull buckles… Peculiar how my first thought lent itself to something so unimportant.

He grabbed my collar and pulled me from the floor. “Come on, you shit, we’re going to see the boss.”

My attempts at a response led to no success. Throat dry, lips cracked, desperate for water—I couldn’t even croak. Not that I knew what the fuck I would say. I had no idea where I was and little memory of how I got there. Something about a bar and a yellow neon light; I’m pretty sure it was shaped in the name of some cheap beer.

Sam dragged me down the hall, jeans riding along the splintered…

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YOUR Favorite Horror Books – May 10th 2016 Edition

Armand Rosamilia is putting together a great selection of ‘books to read’ by collecting suggestions from his blog followers. The only rule (provide you keep the suggested titles topical to the blog) is that you can’t suggest your own book.

I know my list will be growing longer thanks to his efforts!


This summer I’ll be doing something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time… I want to recognize some great books in the horror fiction field. I also want to find some new books I might’ve missed myself, so…


Two men argue in the low light of one of nineteenth-century New York’s vilest bars. One is an aristocrat, clearly slumming, while the other, in appearance no better than the gutter-trash around him, is the finest author of his age. The wealthy man is Hudson Usher, come to berate Edgar Allen Poe for using Usher’s family history as fodder for his most famous story. The house of Usher has not fallen, Hudson boasts. It will endure into the centuries.
One hundred and fifty years later, the Usher line persists. The newest heir is Rix Usher, a hack horror writer whose ailing father has just called him back to the…

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Damned Echoes

Pen of the Damned’s first word-prompt group challenge!

Pen of the Damned

Ahhh Damnlings, into our realm of darkness you have wandered once more. A realm where words twist on the wind, and morals gain no purchase…

In the collection of prose set forth before you, you will find each of the authors has been constrained to a measure of one hundred to one hundred fifty words; two of which must be borrowed from the nether’s uttering. But fear not, for the Damned wear our shackles well and true – we shrink from no challenge. Sit, read, perhaps ponder… which two of the five words on offer would you chose to sacrifice for a story worthy of the ink that drips from the Pen of the Damned?

Why a sacrifice? You will never hear them Echoed again!


My Mind Screams
Jon Olson

My old fishing boat, the Extant, rocks unsteady beneath my feet. I struggle to catch my breath — difficult after stealing something else’s last. Blood runs down…

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A great piece of flash fiction from L.E. White… Dwellers

An Opener's Closing by L. E. White

When I walked into the room the light switch didn’t work. I didn’t think anything of it. Maybe the bulb had burned out. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and clicked the flash light on.

In the light of that little led, my world changed.

I had never seen them before. I hadn’t thought about the ones dwelling in the dark since I was a child. I can remember believing they were there, but when my father turned the lights on, the room was always empty. I believed him when he said they weren’t real.

As they sat there, bouncing up and down on long, slender legs, I realized what they were.

More than the dwellers.

More than monsters.

They were hungry.

And I was alone in the house.

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RELEASED BY PHRENIC PRESS: The Remington by Alex Woolf

Intelligent, intriguing fiction by Alex Woolf!

The Sirens Song

Phrenic Press, an imprint of Sirens Call Publications, is pleased to announce the release of its latest offering…

The Remington

Alex Woolf


Howard Protheroe leads the dullest existence imaginable. Literally nothing ever happens to him. Then one day, his life changes when he meets fun-loving, talkative Evie Nickelbite. Howard and Evie feel an instant connection. But something doesn’t seem quite right. It’s almost as if their lives are being controlled by an outside force.

At around the same time, in an apparently unrelated incident, would-be writer George W. Durant decides to purchase a typewriter, an 1878 Remington.

As Howard and Evie’s lives become increasingly action-packed and fraught with danger, they start to feel like characters in badly written novel. What is going on, and what does it have to do with George’s Remington?

By turns surreal, funny and romantic, The Remington navigates the mysterious terrain between the worlds of fiction…

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Women in Horror Month Live Facebook Chat, Feb 16th, 7pm-9pm EST @doclaney #WiHM7


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Women in Horror Month Live Facebook Chat

February 16, 2016
7pm-9pm EST

An opportunity to join a discussion with writers:
Patricia Flewwelling, Nancy Kilpatrick, Gwendolyn Kiste,
Elaine Pascale, and Erin Thorne.

All are welcome!!!

Click here to join the chat!

Best Horror Movies of 2015

Hunter Shea says these are the top 13 horror flicks of 2015… I’ve yet to see them myself, but am eager to dive in!

Hunter Shea

I have to admit, I was watching horror flicks right down to the wire to make sure I got as many as I could in before making my annual top 13 list. There were some I had high hopes for that didn’t make the cut like Let us Prey and, believe it or not, Paranormal Activity – The Ghost Dimension. And then there were the usual pleasant surprises that just had to make the cut. Unlike other years, there was no question about my #1 movie. I love it so much, I’ve made it my favorite movie of the 21st century.

Oddly enough, there are no cryptid movies on the list this time around. Didn’t really see any worth considering, other than Zombeavers. That’s right, I said Zombeavers.

OK, enough of my preamble. Will you join me for the countdown?


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