FREE DECEMBER 26, 2012 Creepies – Tales From Beneath the Bed

FREE DECEMBER 26, 2012

Creepies – Tales From Beneath the Bed

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009JXJU8C

A New Horror Classic!

 

Creepies

 

Looking for a little hair raising fun? Download this wonderfully creepy, scary and fun anthology from the WPAD group.

A desperate father, on the run with his daughter reveals a terrifying truth about his child… Who is the bogeyman, really? Hear the real story – directly

from the monster himself… A tiny burger joint along a desert highway – it appears to be a refreshing oasis for a traveling family… or is it? A psychic investigates an apparition of a little girl and uncovers a shocking tale…
Enjoy these chilling stories and more in
Creepies: Twisted Tales From Beneath the Bed.


This creepy collection of short stories by various authors is a fundraiser for Multiple Sclerosis, in support of one of our writers, who lives with MS. 50% of all royalties will be donated to MS research.

 

Creepies: Twisted Tales From Beneath the Bed [Kindle Edition]

Marla Todd (Author), J. Harrison Kemp (Author), Nathan Tackett (Author), Mandy White (Author), Zoltana (Author), A.K. Wallace (Author), David W. Stone(Author)

 

 

 

 

 

Robinson Crusoe

I read this to my children when they were young and I still love it. Forget them. I love it.

OK, I know you came here for vampire stuff. Blood, lust, gore, sex, more sex, adventure, wit, beauty, tits, more blood and lust…I get it. OK I really do get it. I’m into all of that too, but it’s been a long night and I’m drunk on fresh hunts (blood ok) so Juliette, vampire maman, just wants a little silly poetry charm. Work with me on this. You’ll thank me for it later.

Blood, lust, passion, desire, parenting advice, ghosts, vampires, werewolves and paranormal romance ALL to come next week. I promise. Really I do. Just read the poem. Let me share.

Robinson Crusoe’s Story

THE night was thick and hazy
When the ‘Piccadilly Daisy’
Carried down the crew and captain in the sea;
And I think the water drowned ’em;
For they never, never found ’em,
And I know they didn’t come ashore with me.

Oh! ’twas very sad and lonely
When I found myself the only
Population on this cultivated shore;
But I’ve made a little tavern
In a rocky little cavern,
And I sit and watch for people at the door.

I spent no time in looking
For a girl to do my cooking,
As I’m quite a clever hand at making stews;
But I had that fellow Friday,
Just to keep the tavern tidy,
And to put a Sunday polish on my shoes.

I have a little garden
That I’m cultivating lard in,
As the things I eat are rather tough and dry;
For I live on toasted lizards,
Prickly pears, and parrot gizzards,
And I’m really very fond of beetle-pie.

The clothes I had were furry,
And it made me fret and worry
When I found the moths were eating off the hair;
And I had to scrape and sand ’em,
And I boiled ’em and I tanned ’em,
Till I got the fine morocco suit I wear.

I sometimes seek diversion
In a family excursion
With the few domestic animals you see;
And we take along a carrot
As refreshment for the parrot,
And a little can of jungleberry tea.

Then we gather as we travel,
Bits of moss and dirty gravel,
And we chip off little specimens of stone;
And we carry home as prizes
Funny bugs, of handy sizes,
Just to give the day a scientific tone.

If the roads are wet and muddy
We remain at home and study,—
For the Goat is very clever at a sum,—
And the Dog, instead of fighting,
Studies ornamental writing,
While the Cat is taking lessons on the drum.

We retire at eleven,
And we rise again at seven;
And I wish to call attention, as I close,
To the fact that all the scholars
Are correct about their collars,
And particular in turning out their toes.

Charles Edward Carryl