From the untamed wilderness of ancient times to the concrete jungles of today, these sixteen excursions into nightmares will keep you awake long past the midnight hour—and praying for daylight…
Beyond The Shadows…
…they linger, showing themselves only to those brave enough to perceive them…willing to see beyond human existence and into the heart of darkness. Feel the racing pulse in the primal desire of werewolves. Embrace the aura of two gifted women as they unleash power beyond imagining. Savor the aroma of otherworldly flora planted in a unique patch of earth.
They Walk The Night…
…prepared to face terrors humans were never meant to confront. Chant with an African mystic as he protects his people from an entity of unbridled malice. Ride the dusty trails of the Old West in pursuit of monstrous legends. Sail on a ship of damned souls as it languishes in the depths of forbidden waters.
Maurice Broaddus Chesya Burke
Patricia E. Canterbury
Eric Jerome Dickey B. Gordon Doyle
Rickey Windell George
L.R. Giles Brandon Massey
Eric Jerome Dickey
People called me Harlem.
I dubbed myself after that dangerous neighborhood
that I’d never seen.
A place not everybody knew about.
A place most people didn’t want to know about.
I read life is rough in Harlem and a black man isn’t
expected to live to see twenty-five. Before twenty-five,
a brother is almost guaranteed death, by either drugs or
violence. Usually at the hand of another black man.
Statistics of Harlem.
So that name fit me perfectly, described me to the
I was twenty-three.
The clock was ticking.
Another reason I took that label was because one of
the nurses at the hospital, Daphane, was from there.
She was the first one that was nice to me. She never
forced my medication on me. Always brought me some
books to read. Snuck me in some extra dessert after
hours. Plus she told me what was going on on the other
side of the double-locked doors. On the outside. Liking her helped me like being Harlem. She understood
where I was coming from.
Daphane. She looked a few weeks shy of twenty but
claimed she was around twenty-four. She came here
right after I was boxed up and shipped here. A sweet,
cute, caramel-flavored, thin sister who always gave a
sincere smile back at me when I sent an earnest smile
toward her oval face and light brown eyes. She’d always
wink and speak when I passed by her on my way
to therapy. Whether I was handcuffed or not. My fatassed,
cigarette-smelling, Grizzly Adams–bearded, Bozo-
bald counselor never smiled. He talked down to me in
a slick sort of way. I hate that Doc Brewster with a passion.
First chance I got he would be my next one
All the rooms were white. White walls. In the corner,
a white, twin-sized bed with white sheets sat next
to a white porcelain sink that had white fixtures. Like
they were trying to make this hellish place seem like it
was somebody’s Ku Klux heaven. Nothing up in here
but southern white nurses in white uniforms. Me
decked out in a white hospital prisoner uniform.
Daphane and Phyllis were the only women of color
in this joint. Heaven and hell.