Your heart doesn't belong on your sleeve, sunshine. It belongs strapped to your boot next to a six-inch dagger.
Alistair CrossOnly I was capable of saving her now, and that, as far as anyone could argue, may have made me worse than all the devils and the demons, but it also, more accurately, made me better than all the angels and gods.
Alistair CrossMots clés horror suspense thriller erotica beautiful-monster jared-anderson
Her face was a grimace of surprised pain as she slid unconscious down the back of the tub and under the water.
I held her under for several minutes after the blow, watching as the water went pink, then red, and finally crimson with blood.
Mots clés murder horror blood beautiful-monster
Good horror is written by people who understand that fear is one of the cardinal passageways into the core of humanity. Good horror is generally written by folks who grew up on horror; books, movies, etc. You can’t simply decide to write—in any genre—if you don’t first have an understanding of the topic and a strong mental backlog of reference.
Alistair CrossMots clés horror author-interview alistair-cross
They want to be stimulated. They want to read something that can get under their skin and hang out there for a while.
Alistair CrossMots clés writing horror author-interview alistair-cross
Yep,” I said, rolling the body onto its back and staring into the horrified, bloated face, “you’re a single-bagger. My kinda gal.” I gave her a smile and a friendly wink. The face stared back at me with that same frozen look of terror. “Oh, stop being so dramatic,” I said, “You’ll be pretty again, I promise.
Alistair CrossMots clés horror suspense thriller beautiful-monster alistair-cross
Deadlines help me, but my muse hates them. My muse functions in fits and starts, and tends to take very long vacations. Deadlines are like a hot poker to his ass. They force us both to sit down and write, which is what it takes to do this.
Alistair CrossMots clés writing horror writing-process author-interview alistair-cross
Sandy’s was one of those places that made poor, white trash feel like high-class consumers. This was the kind of place you’d take your mistress to, but never your wife. Wives expected better. Mistresses were impressed by the blandness of the over-priced wine and the vast Italian menu options.
Alistair CrossMots clés horror suspense thriller bdsm
. The thorns, ruthless in their protection of the beauty they upheld, tore at my skin, bleeding me like a vampire’s victim and no doubt loving every moment of it. The vines snaked around my hands and arms trying to cut the circulation of blood.
Alistair CrossMots clés blood-roses-a-short-story
.” I watched her sip at the drink some more. She was strong, healthy, but also petite enough that I was certain I could overpower her. I’d made the right decision not to tranquilize her, I thought. Slipping some powerful barbiturate into a mixed drink wasn’t something I was above, but it always felt like such a lost opportunity. I liked the fight, the tightening and clenching of a woman’s body as she writhed for freedom. I felt the slow swelling of arousal between my legs and made no effort to disguise it.
Alistair CrossMots clés horror suspense thriller bdsm erotica
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