Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Poet/Artist: John Greenleaf Whittier – lines from Maud Muller









John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)


…Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: “It might have been!”


Friday, January 27, 2017

Reviewer: Reading to review: Aletheia




This title is ready to purchase from 10th march 2017 and will be published in both eBook and paperback.

And the copy I have is still going through final proofing and such; therefore, I will not be making comments on any of those details.

Author Bio:

JS Breukelaar is the author of the novels, American Monster (Lazy Fascist Press) Aletheia (forthcoming from Crystal Lake Publishing), the collection, No Bunnies (forthcoming from Crystal Lake), and the novella War Wounds (Onnium Gatherum, forthcoming).

She is columnist and instructor and LitReactor and Gotham Writers Workshop. Her short fiction has appeared, or will, in publications including Gamut, Lightspeed, Lamplight, Nightmare, Dark Fuse, Juked, Prick of the Spindle, Opium, Go(b)et Magazine, Women Writing the Weird, and States of Terror Vol. II.

An ex-pat New Yorker, she lives in Sydney with her family, and online at www.thelivingsuitcase.com.





Story Synopsis:

The remote lake town of Little Ridge has a memory problem. There is an island out on the lake somewhere, but no one can remember exactly where it is—and what it has to do with the disappearance of the eccentric Frankie Harpur, or the seven-year-old son of a local artist, Lee Montour. 

When Thettie Harpur brings her family home to find Frankie, she faces opposition from all sides—including from the clan leader himself, the psychotic Doc Murphy.  But Lee, her one true ally in grief and love, might not be enough to help take on her worst nightmare. The lake itself.  
Because deep below the island, something monstrous lies waiting for Thettie, and it knows her name. 

A tale of that most human of monsters—memory—Aletheia is part ghost story, part love story, a novel about the damage done, and the damage yet to come. About terror itself. Not only for what lies ahead, but also for what we think we have left behind.