Tag: fiction

Ghost Lights (A Halloween Story)

A spine-tingling tale for Halloween. Happy Halloween, everybody. This story © 2002 by Steven Campbell. I write this alone somewhere within the outer bowels of Myers Ridge. I hope I will survive to get this to the proper hands for publication. And as implausible and of unsound mind as it will seem, what I am

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Nightmare, part 3 of 3

The last part of this 3-part story is a WIP that my friend Lola and I worked on jointly several years ago. We never finished it. I decided to post it to coincide with the month that will lead us to Halloween. Reader Advisory: The story may contain strong language. ~ 3 ~ I couldn’t

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Nightmare, part 2 of 3

The second part of this 3-part story is a WIP that my friend Lola and I worked on jointly several years ago. We never finished it. I decided to post it to coincide with the month that will lead us to Halloween. Reader Advisory: The story may contain strong language. ~ 2 ~ I knew

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Nightmare, part 1 of 3

October is one of my favorite months of the year. Spooky stories percolate in my mind and sometimes make their way to paper, or to the Internet and my blog. The following 3-part story is a WIP that my friend Lola and I worked on jointly several years ago. We never finished it. I decided

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Julie

Changes, Part 5 Today is my birthday. I find it fitting to feature a character I created on my birthday many years ago when I was a teenager. Julianna “Julie” Michelle Douglas, 13 In the beginning, I named her Lucinda after an older sister I almost had. She was big sister to Kenny (named Lenny

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Vree

Changes, Part 4 Verawenda “Vree” Renee Erickson, 13 Upon her creation in the 1970s, Verawenda Erickson was the same age as my other teen characters. She was an only child, nicknamed Vree, and lived with her parents down the road from Dave and Amy. Years later, when I decided to write about Vree again, I

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Amy

Changes, Part 3 Another change (and more to come) to strengthen my characters. Amy Elizabeth Conrad, 15 As a teenage male in the 1970s, the hardest part of writing was understanding my female characters. I had plenty of girl cousins to study, but I grew up in a household of six males and one female,

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Kenny

Changes, Part 2 Another change (and more to come), which I feel is necessary to strengthen my characters, is my old buddy, Lenny Stevens with a new name and personality. Kenneth “Kenny” Jeffrey Douglas, 15 He, as Lenny Stevens, is the second person I created. He buddied with Dave Evans (now, Dave Conrad) in high

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Into the New

Changes, Part 1 January has been a month of stepping back and observing the past, seeing what I can take with me into the new year and what to leave behind. As an artist and writer, it is also a time when I look at the parts of my art and writing I can change

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Mittens Writes a Letter, by Lorraine Dahl

KENNY! WHERE are you? All of a sudden your ex-girlfriend shows up and me and all my belongings are HISTORY from our house. I’m scared Where are you? I miss you! She took me to her daughter’s house in Columbus. I hate it in Columbus! They have a mean cat that chewed off a piece

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New Ridgewood, 2

Wherever Vree was, she could not see much, just gray darkness similar to the warm and safe kind beneath her blankets when she and Zoey used them for tents in her bedroom. But she was not beneath her blankets. The grayness was infinite here, wherever here was, and she floated and rolled and swam in

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New Ridgewood, 1

Ridgewood continues to change. The same goes for her characters. After all, real-life 2017 is a bizarre, stranger time than 1970 when I began creating the place and her residents. And no matter how fictional they are, they need an essence of reality to make them current and believable. I have told Vree Erickson’s story

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Dream Angie

Short story by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. I awoke from my nap and remembered I was on a plane home to San Diego. I glanced around the low-lit cabin of thirteen other passengers, most of them asleep and a few with their heads bowed over some reading material. Across the aisle, my mother snored

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Vree’s Journal Entry 6

It took me a while to dig up this information. Here it is: Balen Renfrew, My Wizard Uncle Balen James Renfrew is my maternal grandmother’s 45-year-old son. He has thick, dark-brown hair, beard stubble (he calls it 5 o’clock shadow—he always looks like he needs to shave before the end of the day), dark blue

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Vree’s Journal Entry 5

Lightning struck Grandma Lybrook when she was 4 years old while she fished with her father at the backside of Alice Lake; the strike left her with low-grade psychic ability, which she kept hidden and secret from us until I saw it psychically. Her psychic ability allows her to see ghosts and other creatures invisible

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Vree’s Journal Entry 4

Leonard “Lenny” Stevens is my best friend Zoey’s big brother. He’s a handsome boy, with dreamy dark brown (chocolate) eyes and thick, burnt sienna hair. He stands around 5’ 7” tall and weighs 125-130 pounds. He is older—15, born July 5, a day that he and his family know also as “Margga’s Curse” because of

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Margga’s Curse, revised: Chapter 1

Intro I know, most of you would rather see my artwork and photography than read my writing. But for the handful of followers who enjoy my writing segments, here’s the continuation of my attempt to rewrite Night of the Hellhounds, or accurately, Margga’s Curse. After I published Night of the Hellhounds with its new title

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Redoing “Night of the Hellhounds” (Part 3)

Chapter 3: Vree’s Comeback Not long after I published Night of the Hellhounds, 2.0 and the alternate ending version Night of the Hellhounds, 2.1, I found the original draft in a box of high school papers and notebooks. I knew I wanted to bring Vree Erickson back, so I took to the keyboard and composed

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Redoing “Night of the Hellhounds” (Part 2)

Chapter 2: Rewrites, Rewrites, Rewrites Sometime while I was in high school, I decided to rewrite “Ghost Dogs.” Night of the Hellhounds, 2.0 It’s basically the same story: some teenagers are on Myers Ridge and they meet malevolent ghost dogs that put someone’s life in danger. During the first rewrite, I took myself out as

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Redoing “Night of the Hellhounds” (Part 1)

Chapter 1: The Beginning Those of you who have read my blog since its start in 2011 know I wrote a short story called “The Ghost Dogs” when I was 13 years old and an eighth-grader at my small town high school in northwest Pennsylvania. Until then, I was an avid reader who occasionally wrote

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Old Bones: Different Perspectives

A short story from my book Old Bones. * THE COFFEEHOUSE WINDOW Larry sat beside reminded him of sitting in his car at the carwash. Except, this wasn’t Get Wet Express. This was another rainy day in Ridgewood, at Mabel’s, on Monday, around eight-thirty in the morning, and he sat across his sister Elaine, her

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Old Bones: Behavior Unkind

Here is a strange story about a man who disrespects others, including his mother … perfect for Mothers Day. * SOMETHING STRANGE HAD happened to Myers Ridge after an earthquake shook the little town of Ridgewood three months ago. Vehicles began stalling on the ridge. Not all vehicles stalled, and sometimes a day went by

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Old Bones: Are We There Yet?

With all its blemishes, I wrote the strange and creepy “Are We There Yet?” in 1999 and published it at my old no-longer-in-service website. Since then, I have recycled parts of it for my Vree Erickson novel, Margga’s Curse. * ON A PARTICULAR August day, not far from Ridgewood, Pennsylvania, a black Grand Cherokee wound

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Green Crystal, chapter 19

In this last chapter, it’s now June 29, 2013 and Lenny Stevens is on his parent’s front porch, trying to become a better artist by painting Sara Taylor’s portrait; she reminds him of Vree Erickson, though she is seven years younger. Lenny pines to have Vree back; the hope that she could return by magic

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Green Crystal, chapter 18

When Vree Erickson magically passes through her mirror to her friend Dave Evans’s bedroom, she knows the entity is still alive inside her and wants Dave dead. There, she stands up to Angelina, the entity from the crystal powerful enough to destroy her and everyone she holds dear in life. Cracks In Time We choreograph

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Green Crystal, chapter 16

Kismet “The past is but the beginning of a beginning.” —H.G. Wells Chapter 5: December 25, 2006 The patter of bare feet on wood floor brought Addison from her slumber. Seconds later, a child’s voice whispered in an ear, “Merry Christmas, Mommy.” She reached out from the blankets and pulled the girl in bed with

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Green Crystal, chapter 15

Kismet “The past is but the beginning of a beginning.” —H.G. Wells Chapter 4: April 15, 1988 He was on his back. For a moment, Daniel thought he was floating. Then his head cleared and he saw that he was beneath some pines, on a dry mattress of grass and pine needles, sprawled on his

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Green Crystal, chapter 14

Kismet “The past is but the beginning of a beginning.” —H.G. Wells Chapter 3: April 26, 2003 “Ugh. I think I swallowed a spider.” Daniel pulled a small, brown leaf from his mouth and pushed the hanging branches away from his face. Drops of water sprinkled down on him and he shivered. “Wait up a

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Green Crystal, chapter 13

Kismet “The past is but the beginning of a beginning.” —H.G. Wells Chapter 2: December 25, 2000 Part 2 of 2 Addison’s bedroom was now a sewing room with a reading sofa in front of the far window. Daniel helped Addison there and laid her down. Then he unfolded an afghan draped over the back.

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Green Crystal, chapter 12

Kismet “The past is but the beginning of a beginning.” —H.G. Wells Chapter 2: December 25, 2000 Part 1 of 2 Addison stood at the far end of her mother’s Victorian-styled dining room and rubbed her eyes. They watered from the ever-present scent of potpourri. She glanced around at the blushing wall coverings with floral

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Green Crystal, chapter 11

Kismet “The past is but the beginning of a beginning.” —H.G. Wells Chapter 1: December 24, 2000 Part 2 of 2 “I think you should do it,” Daniel said when he climbed in bed and sat next to her. “But I’m a director of nursing, not a bookstore owner. Besides, her store makes very little

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Green Crystal, chapter 10

Kismet “The past is but the beginning of a beginning.” —H.G. Wells Chapter 1: December 24, 2000 Part 1 of 2 Addison Taylor played again the message her husband had left on their answering machine. He would not be home until after midnight. Although the college at nearby New Cambridge was on Christmas hiatus between

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Green Crystal, chapter 9

What can I say about “Kismet” that hasn’t been said? You can read all about the story’s different incarnations in earlier blog posts. Here, the story takes place in the past as far back as 1981 and as recent as 2006. A diary from the past warns Addison Taylor about her future. However, it is

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Green Crystal, chapter 8

So far in The Green Crystal Stories, teenagers Vree Erickson and Lenny Stevens have battled hellhounds, Vree found a magic crystal that took possession of her body and killed two men, and yesterday she and Lenny parted after the magic in her put a boy and girl inside a computer game. In this chapter of

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Green Crystal, chapter 7

In this chapter of Book 3 in The Green Crystal Stories, Lenny Stevens is the POV character. He likes Vree and she likes him. She emerges enough from her possession to speak to him, but she is still a distant character. I said yesterday that “III” is a possession story and poses to Vree the

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Green Crystal, chapter 6

In this opening chapter of “III” (the third short story in my 2014 book, The Green Crystal Stories), a month has passed since Vree Erickson rescued her mother from a kidnapper rapist. Here, I changed the POV (point of view) character to a self-centered mechanic. This places Vree’s thoughts, feelings and immediacy offstage temporarily. Now

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Green Crystal, chapter 5

In this chapter of Book 2, “Trespassing”, the green crystal uses its mysterious magical powers to aid teenager Vree Erickson to save her mother from a kidnapper rapist and strengthen its control of her. This is a possession story, though the reader doesn’t know that … not yet. The crystal does a good thing by

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Green Crystal, chapter 4

When teenager Vree Erickson falls in a sinkhole caused by an earthquake on Myers Ridge, she finds a green crystal and unleashes its mysterious magical powers. She uses its power to escape the hole, whereupon the crystal possesses her and shows her a crime in process: a stranger in town is kidnapping her mother. Vree

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Green Crystal, chapter 3

I’m continuing to add the stories that appeared in my 2014 book, The Green Crystal Stories, in chapter-by-chapter installments. Today’s chapter is the final one from the 2013 short story, “Night of the Hellhounds.” This was the first book of five in The Green Crystal Stories and had nothing to do with the title, which

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Green Crystal, chapter 2

As I said in my last blog post, while I rewrite the stories that appeared in my 2014 book, The Green Crystal Stories, I am offering the original stories here in chapter-by-chapter installments. Today’s chapter is from the 2013 short story, “Night of the Hellhounds.” This is different from the novel with the same name

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Green Crystal, chapter 1

I am rewriting the stories that appeared in my 2014 book, The Green Crystal Stories, and published at Amazon for a short while before I shelved it. Why did I shelve it after I spent months designing the cover and editing the writing to what I considered a polish? Because it wasn’t done. By the

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Save-Some-Cash, 4

WELCOME TO $AVE-$OME-CA$H (A WORK OF FICTION IN PROGRESS). Written 2003, published at Facebook, November 29, 2010 as Welcome to Waldo’s World, rewritten 2011. CHAPTER 4 I called Jessi Southwood the next morning. It took some serious recall to get her number right, but when I did, we set up a practice session for Monday

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Save-Some-Cash, 3

WELCOME TO $AVE-$OME-CA$H (A WORK OF FICTION IN PROGRESS). Written 2003, published at Facebook, November 24, 2010 as Welcome to Waldo’s World, rewritten 2011. CHAPTER 3 During my employment at $ave-$ome-Ca$h, I learned that old vendee vamps are the ones to be wary of because they tend to complain the longest and loudest and refuse

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Save-Some-Cash, 2

WELCOME TO $AVE-$OME-CA$H (A WORK OF FICTION IN PROGRESS). Written 2003, published at Facebook, November 21, 2010 as Welcome to Waldo’s World, rewritten 2011. CHAPTER 2 There’s an odd phenomenon in retail called Black Friday. Just the name sends shivers down the otherwise unshakable veterans of commerce while putting large, blinking dollar signs across their

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Save-Some-Cash, 1

WELCOME TO $AVE-$OME-CA$H (A WORK OF FICTION IN PROGRESS). Written 2003, published at Facebook, November 20, 2010 as Welcome to Waldo’s World, rewritten 2011. CHAPTER 1 Every school kid studying Business History at New Cambridge High knows the story of Otto Van Douchebaum, of how in the 1940s, he started the first Van Douchebaum Emporium

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Hellhounds Unpublished, Chapter 4

A fun piece of writing that my friend Lola and I wrote many years ago for my Night of the Hell Hounds story I started in 1999. This cliffhanger never made it into the published short story. Ashley started to stand, uncertain of where to look first, when one of Jerry’s beefy hands clutched her

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Another Story Revelation

Here is an unedited chapter of my novel, Night of the Hellhounds. Enjoy. Vree was glad the blueberry patch was behind the house and not far from the back door. Even though the day was sunny and birds sang merrily and flew across the kind of sky summers are famous for, she had read that

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Vree’s Journal Entry 1

My name is Verawenda Erickson. My nickname Vree comes from my initials VRE. My name is a combination of Vera and Wenda. My mom named me after her paternal grandmother Vera Lybrook and Vera’s sister Wenda Walsh. My middle name Renee is my maternal grandmother’s middle name. I live with my mom and older brother

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Free Kismet Story, Chapter 4

Kismet is a short story that went through many rewrites before I presented it as part of The Ridgewood Chronicles series several years ago. This version is basically the story at Amazon, told in 4 chapters before I decided to rewrite it, add more chapters, and change the ending. Enjoy. KISMET Copyright © Steven L

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Free Kismet Story, Chapter 3

Kismet is a short story that went through many rewrites before I presented it as part of The Ridgewood Chronicles series several years ago. This version is basically the story at Amazon, told in 4 chapters before I decided to rewrite it, add more chapters, and change the ending. Enjoy. KISMET Copyright © Steven L

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Free Kismet Story, Chapter 2

Kismet is a short story that went through many rewrites before I presented it as part of The Ridgewood Chronicles series several years ago. This version is basically the story at Amazon, told in 4 chapters before I decided to rewrite it, add more chapters, and change the ending. Enjoy. KISMET Copyright © Steven L

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Free Kismet Story, Chapter 1

Kismet is a short story that went through many rewrites before I presented it as part of The Ridgewood Chronicles series several years ago. This version is basically the story at Amazon, told in 4 chapters before I decided to rewrite it, add more chapters, and change the ending. Enjoy. KISMET Copyright © Steven L

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Ridgewood Revisited, Part 4

The Quest Around us in air, water, land and fire, there are realms that for the most part go unseen by many. These strange and fascinating worlds exist beyond the fabric of our periphery, dwelling within the wilds of every race and culture, and revealed by the greatest unknown, to them with minds utterly open.

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Another Free Short Story

Here is a short story I discovered on an old floppy disk dating back to 1990. A Buzzing of the Bees © 1990 by Steven L Campbell (Approximately 1,220 words) Some women have voices like angels. And Angela was the perfect name for the angel following him. Brian listened to the gentle cadence of her

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Original Ending of Night of the Hellhounds

I recently found this on a backup floppy disk, lol. My friend Lola and I wrote this in 2001 for a story I started way back in 1974. Our ending went through many manifestations before we scrapped the project. Ashley stood, uncertain of where to look first, when one of Jerry’s beefy hands clutched her

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The Move

The beginning of an unfinished story by my friend Lola and me, rated PG for crude language. Lola and I co-authored stories online for several years. Part 1 of 2: Carl Carl Goodman coasted his 12-speed bicycle across the blacktop sidewalk through Hillwood Park until he came to the city’s oldest oak tree. He stopped

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The Provider

A short story penned by my friend Lola and me. We co-authored stories on the Internet. A creepy arson tale for Halloween! “He’s out there,” my mother said at the front window. “DID YOU HEAR ME?” She rushed from the front window and snatched her cell phone from the dining room table. Her hand trembled

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Fiona’s Nightmare

3 chapters from a story WIP that my friend Lola and I worked on jointly several years ago. We never finished it, but I have rescued my parts for a story featuring Vree Erickson. Enjoy, but I caution you that this contains strong language. Happy Halloween! ~ 1 ~ The rush of icy air filled

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The Nurse and the Magic Ointment

An odd tale penned by my friend Lola and me. Based on a story Lola read when she was a child, this is her version with my two cents thrown in. Once upon a time an unemployed nurse lived in a small village inside New York City, and though she had no family except a

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Waiting

A quirky short story penned by my friend Lola and me, November 1999. Lola and I co-authored a handful of stories on the Internet while we were members of an online writing group. Freshly shaved Robert Allen rose up swinging barbells at those fiercely mad occupants of the Union Gym down at Union Square next to

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A Glimpse At Danger

The humid air stung his eyes. He hated how the steaminess assaulted his throat and made it hard to breathe. He rarely walked, but Dr. Ford said his body needed the exercise if he wanted to get better. The backside of the park was a good place to begin. No one needed to see him

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Vanishing, Chapter 3

Author’s Note: Vanishing is an alternate version of Kismet, a story now available at Amazon. I tried to get the attention of book publishers with this and the two earlier chapters. I never had any takers, but I never gave up on the story. Heat had blanketed David when a bolt of lightning struck the

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Vanishing, Chapter 2

Author’s Note: Vanishing is an alternate version of Kismet, a story now available at Amazon. I tried to get the attention of book publishers with this and the previous chapter (along with a third chapter, which I will post in the next few days). I never had any takers, but I never gave up on

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Vanishing, Chapter 1

Author’s Note: Vanishing is an alternate version of Kismet, a story now available at Amazon. I tried to get the attention of book publishers with this chapter (along with two more chapters, which I will post in the next few days). I never had any takers, but I never gave up on the story. “Don’t

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Trespassers, part 2

© 2006 by Steven L Campbell. Fred Shafer eyed an emerald-colored family-type van enter the near-empty K-mart parking lot in Ridgewood. As it parked a few spaces next to his Impala, he leered past the old car’s passenger seat and out an open window. A thirty-something woman bundled in white imitation fur slid from the

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Trespassers, part 1

You may read various versions of this story, but this is closest to the original content. Enjoy. © 2006 by Steven L Campbell. A Friday evening blood-red sun sank eye-to-eye with Myers Ridge and blistered the west side of the craggy peak to look like a plug of magma. But Myers Ridge and its Eagle

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A Deleted WIP Excerpt

I do not usually share deleted parts of published works, but I had a lot of fun today reading this again. Deleted from Night of the Hellhounds, © Steven L. Campbell. Lenny Stevens had seen Vree Erickson follow/chase after the green fog to a section of woods behind Mr. Evans’s barn. [WHY?] He entered the woods

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With Blemishes, With Love

With Mother’s Day fast approaching, my thoughts are on my mother who is no longer with me, but whose spirit lives on in me. She was the one who introduced me to reading, writing and making art. And when I started writing stories in high school, she encouraged me to continue, even on those days

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Bottom of the Seventh

© 2000 by Steven L. Campbell. (Approximately 1,900 words.) Young Michael Stone surrendered the gaze of his deep blue eyes to one of wildness mixed with flight. The air around him had become thin and dry, as though an unseen storm had sucked the very oxygen from the pale blue sky over Ridgewood High School’s

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A Sinister Blast from the Past

© 2001 by Steven L Campbell. (Approximately 1,700 words.) Inside this cold and sterile environment, I am a prisoner of time, a prisoner of fate, a prisoner to the cruel circumstances that have left me unable to communicate to the people around me. They pass me and I go unnoticed by them. Without a name,

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The Thing In the Mirror

© 1999 by Steven L Campbell. (Approximately 1,500 words.) Inside a single yellow eye of a two-story brick house, fifteen-year-old Randy White sits at his bedroom desk and stares into a rectangular wall-type mirror propped in front of him. He draws a few lines to his portrait, trying to capture a convincing likeness of himself

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The Ridgewood Story, 4

Myers Ridge, 1970, First Visit: I developed Lenny’s character further and discovered after several visits that he didn’t care for “Len” as a nickname, although his dad called him it all the time. I also learned that several pretty Ridgewood girls found his full, dark brown hair and light brown eyes “dreamy looking” even though

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News From the Future

While we eagerly anticipate traveling from New York to Paris in a matter of seconds, work continues on both travel centers. Although the Paris building is near completion, the outer walls of The New York Instant Travel Center are now in place, allowing work to continue on the interior. Crews from more than a dozen

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Devil Music

Dana skipped out on going to the heavy-metal rock concert. Her mother’s church had her believing that the concert would exhort the crowd to rape and murder. Rock and roll music had always been the catalyst of evil; she’d been told this repeatedly over the years by her mother. Even the innocent-looking Beatles of the

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Benefactor

“He’s out there,” my mother said. She rushed from the front window and snatched her cell phone from the dining room table. Her hand trembled while she dialed. She almost dropped the phone twice before she put it to her left ear. “Hello? Police?” Her face contorted into a mask of disappointment. “Sorry,” she said,

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