I’ve just finished prepping the print version of Twisted Presents, so here’s a tidbit from one of the stories therein.
The first Hogswatch Eve after the accident, Merle had stopped on the way back from the hospital for a fifth of Makers’ Mark. He knew if he started drinking he’d never stop, but the next day was Hogswatch and he couldn’t think of any other way to survive the night. He woke the next morning with an empty bottle, an open sewer for a mouth, and a witch’s brew in his stomach.
Through all that, he could still smell the sheets. He hadn’t changed them in weeks. There wasn’t a reason to. The bed made a warm greasy nest that suited the wreck of his life.But it was Hogswatch. He had to get to the clinic. Soon as he could. They were reading Night Watch. For when his voice gave out, he’d loaded a couple of movies onto a tablet. White Christmas and Gremlins. He hadn’t done much in the way of shopping, but he’d picked up a fruit and nut bar at the hospital gift shop a couple days ago. It was the first treat he’d ever bought her back in college, and all the feast he could handle.
The alternative was to lie here and cry. Again. Crying always made him feel worse.
I plan to launch Twisted Presents in time for you to get your books before Christmas. Because nothing says “Happy Holidays” like curses, firearms, and orcs.