I snatched your body from the jaws of death when I exhumed you from the dirt. Your soul, though, I’m not so sure of.

You returned to consciousness screaming. “Let me go baaaaaack!”

Maybe I shouldn’t have resurrected you in the graveyard. “Shhh!”

Scrabbling across your own grave dirt, you crawled toward your open coffin, still half sunk into your grave.

I got there first and slapped the coffin lid shut. “Nope! You’ve still got that big report to finish before Monday. Come on!”

I hauled you crying back to the waiting carpool. The company already had your soul anyway.

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Summer’s Latest

Beneath the Bluebonnets: Tales of Terror by Texas Women

Read my eco-horror short “Well Being” in this fabulous new anthology, in which a mother follows strange impulses from tainted water to find her daughter.

From Mary Shelley to Tananarive Due and Mariana Enríquez, women have long shaped horror—often without equal recognition. Living closest to the genre’s edge, women know these fears firsthand: lost autonomy, violence, childbirth, survival.

Set in Texas, a land of haunted histories and increasingly restrictive laws, Beneath the Bluebonnets emerges from the raw intersection of terror and endurance. Written by twelve Texas women writers: R. J. Joseph, Lauren Oertel, L.H. Phillips, Kathleen Kent, Madison Estes, Jess Hagemann, Emma E. Murray, Jae Mazer, Iphigenia Strangeworth, Jacklyn Baker, S.G. Baker and edited by Carmen Gray, this collection is urgent, unflinching, and deeply haunting—stories that refuse to look away.