Richard Schiver

Tag: horror fiction

  • Fridays 5 with Thomas Monteleone

    Fridays 5 with Thomas Monteleone

    I’ve decided to mix Fridays up a little bit. Some weeks it will be an interview with one of my characters, while other weeks it will be Fridays 5. I’m hoping to add some new blood to this weekly feature. If you write in the speculative fiction genres, and would like to participate, drop me a line at rschiver@gmail.com

    Q When did you first consider yourself a writer?

    A When I was 12 years old and spent a summer’s worth of lawn cutting money on a Royal manual typewriter.

    Q What is the hardest part of writing?

    A Forcing yourself to do it every day… even on the days when you have other stuff you must do or don’t feel the urging of the muse.

    Q How did you feel upon publication of your first completed project?

    A When I saw my name on the cover of the March 1973 issue of Amazing Science Fiction magazine, I realized I had accomplished something that 99% of the population would never do. And most likely would never think to do.

    Q In addition to writing, what else are you passionate about?

    A I am passionate about my family. Son, daughter, grandkids, and wife are simply everything to me. (. . . And bourbon isn’t so bad either. )

    Q If you could ask any author, living or dead, one question, what would it be?

    A I’d ask Ayn Rand why she allowed John Galt to speak for more than 100 pages.

    Thomas F. Monteleone is an American science fiction author and horror fiction author. His first novel, Seeds of Change was the lead-off title in the critically unsuccessful Laser Books line of science fiction titles, but he went on to become a popular writer of supernatural thrillers.

    A professional writer since 1972, and 4-time winner of the Bram Stoker Award. He has published more than 100 short stories in numerous magazines and anthologies. His stories have been nominated for many awards and have appeared in many best-of-the-year compilations. Click on his image above to be taken to his amazon author page.

    In 2023 Thomas was banned from the Horror Writer’s Association for his conservative beliefs. An organization he had been a member of since its inception. As a result he was cancelled and his publishing company Borderlands Press fell upon hard times. A GiveSendGo fund has been set up to help the 79 year old. If you’re inclined to help out follow the link below, and thank you. No one should have their livelihood taken from them because of their beliefs!

    GiveSendGo

  • New Release: Love Bites

    New Release: Love Bites

    From the twisted mind that brought you the short crime thriller, 1+1=3, comes a love story unlike any other!

    READ!! The steamy scene between Azrael and Morrigan in their car!

    FEAR!! The fake cop who kidnaps them!

    RECOIL!! From the gore!

    ENRAGE!! At the feeling of seeing a show but being seated in front of a post.

    PLUS

    WHY…Is there a walk-in freezer in the fake cop’s basement?

    WHAT…secret is the fake cop hiding?

    WHAT…are Azrael and Morrigan?

    All these questions are answered in LOVE BITES, the new Paranormal Romance story from Kieran Ferrara

    Content Warning: Due to depictions of sex, violence, gore, and foul language, this eBook is not recommended for anyone under the age of 17. By purchasing this eBook, you do not hold the author responsible for anything that may happen and acknowledge that you are at least 17 years old.

    Click on the cover to get your copy now!

    About the Author

    Kieran Ferrara spent aeons lying dormant before taking corporeal form. With a BA in Creative Writing and English from Southern New Hampshire University, he will use his writings to spread havoc across the cosmos.

    When not writing, Kieran enjoys spending time with his wife (The Great Priestess) and two children (Thing 1 and Thing 2). He is the editor of No Happy Endings: A Grimdark Anthology as well as the owner/proprietor of Nobody’s Knightmare Press.

  • Weekly Writing Challenge – I Am. 02/11/2026

    Weekly Writing Challenge – I Am. 02/11/2026

    The final segment:

    Brodie sat in a narrow chair built more for function than comfort. For reasons beyond his understanding Doctor Wilberman had asked him to stop by his office. He was sure it had something to do with the clone who had recently confronted him in the men’s room.

    “He didn’t say anything at all?” Doctor Wilberman asked as he worked to keep his pipe lit.

    “They can’t speak,” Brodie assured him, sticking to the proper narrative, it was safer that way, for him at least. He recognized the clone as the assistant manager of a co-op his grandfather used to take him to when he was a small child. Reminding him of a man who went missing when he was a teen. Several years before the restrictions on cloning were lifted.

    “True,” Doctor Wilberman said as he exhaled a cloud of smoke and flipped through the file lying open on his desk. “There are some who believe a bit of the past remains with the cells we use to create these clones. Are you sure he didn’t say anything?” Doctor Wilberman said as he continued flipping through the pages of the report, “according to the foreman’s report the clone in question tried to speak to him in the mess hall.”

    Brodie shrugged, his fingers working along the edge of his hat, hidden below the lip of the doctor’s desk. It wouldn’t do for them to see how nervous he was. While cloning was now legal, it hadn’t always been that way, and he remembered a time when several of the larger corporate farms operated outside the law in that regard.

    “He didn’t say a word sir, he tried to, but nothing came out.”

    “You’re certain?”

    “Absolutely.”

    “Did you recognize him?”

    “Why would I recognize him? Aren’t all the clones taken from the same cell source?”

    “They are, but every so often a mutation occurs, such as it did here.”

    “If you say so sir, you know more about this stuff than I do.”

    “Very well then,” Doctor Wilberman said as he closed the file, “if there’s anything else I need to ask I’ll be in touch.”

    “Can I go now?” Brodie said as he moved to get up, he couldn’t wait to get out from under the doctor’s scrutiny. If he did admit to recognizing this particular batch of clones what would happen to him?

    “You’re free to go,” the doctor said and Brodie got out of the office as fast as he could. He was halfway across the compound when he saw the latest batch coming in from the fields. Each one of them reminded him of that manager who had gone missing nearly thirty years before and he wondered how he was going to keep his mouth shut while working around them every day. On the other hand who could he say anything to? Cloning was now legal, and while it might have been safe to reveal what he knew, there were no absolutes. He’d felt a connection with the clone, a recognition of his plight, and as he watched them moved across the compound he worried another one might try to make contact with him.

    This completes the story I AM. Join me next week when I begin a new short story. I’ve been itching to go a lot darker than the past stories so we’ll have to wait and see what I come up with. The letter will be J, and that opens up so many possibilities.

  • A conversation with myself.

    A conversation with myself.

    This week I speak with Meat, the main character in This Lawless Land, a six book post-apocalyptic series. The first book, All Roads Lead to Terror will be updated next week.

    1. Can you describe what motivates you to keep going in such a harsh, post-apocalyptic world?

    I guess what keeps me moving is the hope that things can get better, even if it’s just for a little while. I’ve seen too much loss to believe in miracles, but I can’t just sit back and let the world swallow up the people I care about. Maybe it’s stubbornness, or maybe it’s just wanting to prove I’m more than what my name says I am. I want to help others survive, especially the kids who got taken. If we don’t look out for each other, who will?

    2. How did your upbringing shape the person you are now?

    My childhood was a mess—always running, never safe, never really wanted. My mom called me Meat because, to her, that’s all I was. I grew up with survivors, not family, and learned early that you can’t count on anyone but yourself. But I also learned that sometimes, you must step up for others, even if it hurts. That’s what makes you more than just Meat to the world.

    3. What does leadership mean to you, especially when you’re leading other kids?

    Leadership isn’t about being the loudest or the strongest. It’s about making hard choices and carrying the weight when things go wrong. I never asked to be in charge, but people look to me because I’ve survived outside the fence. I try to keep everyone together, even when I’m scared or unsure. Sometimes, all you can do is keep moving forward and hope your choices don’t get someone killed.

    4. How do you handle fear, both your own and that of your friends?

    Fear never really goes away. I feel it every day, especially when I think about what could happen to the people I care about. I try not to show it, because if I fall apart, so does everyone else. I focus on what needs to be done. Tracking, fighting, surviving. If I let fear take over, we’re all dead. So, I push it down and keep going.

    5. What do you think about the rules at Bremo Bluff, especially the ones about outsiders and survivors?

    The rules at the Bluffs are harsh, but I get why they exist. If word got out about what we have—electricity, water, safety. Everyone would want in, and we’d be overrun. Still, it doesn’t sit right with me that people who know about us can’t ever leave. It’s like a prison, even if it’s for our own good. Sometimes I wonder if we’re really any better than the people we’re afraid of.

    6. How do you deal with loss, especially after everything you’ve seen and done?

    Loss is just part of life now. I’ve lost friends, family, even people I barely knew. It hurts every time, but you can’t let it break you. I try to remember the good things, the small moments of hope or laughter. But I also use that pain to keep me sharp. If I forget what I’ve lost, I might get careless, and that’s when people die.

    7. What do you think about hope? Is it a weakness or a strength?

    Hope is the only thing that keeps us going. Without it, we’d just give up and let the world win. It’s not weakness to hope for something better, even if it’s just a hot meal or a safe place to sleep. Hope is what makes us human. It’s what separates us from the monsters, both the dead and the living.

    8. How do you view the adults who survived the awakening compared to your own generation?

    Most of the adults are broken by what happened. They remember the world before, and that makes it harder for them to adapt. My generation, we never really knew anything else. We grew up in the ruins, learned to fight and survive from the start. Maybe that makes us harder, or maybe just more desperate. Either way, we’re the future, for better or worse.

    9. What’s the hardest decision you’ve had to make so far?

    Letting go of the idea that we could save everyone. Sometimes, you must make choices that haunt you. Like leaving someone behind or doing what needs to be done to protect the group. The hardest was probably agreeing to the council’s rule that there could be no survivors among the kidnappers. It made me question if we were still the good guys.

    10. If you could change one thing about your world, what would it be?

    I’d bring back a sense of safety, even if just for a day. A world where kids could play without looking over their shoulders, where families didn’t have to choose between survival and their humanity. I’d want a world where names mean something, where you’re more than just a walking bag of meat to the people around you.

    In the coming months you will have the opportunity to follow Meat’s story as the series is released in its entirety. I’m nearly done with the final book and have hired a good cover designer to help me bring these stories to life.

  • Weekly Writing Challenge 02/04/2026 I Am.

    Weekly Writing Challenge 02/04/2026 I Am.

    Gus backed away from the three men, then turned and fled towards the only building that had any color in his featureless world.

    “He’s got a gun, get him.” He heard the shouts behind him as he fled across the open ground. A farmhand appeared at the door before him, his relaxed features giving way to sudden surprise when he found himself staring down the muzzle of the pistol as Gus pushed past him into the interior of the building.

    He stopped just inside the door, his wavy reflection stretched out at his feet in the surface of the highly polished floor. A door stood to his right and as approaching footsteps came from around the bend in the hallway before him, trapped between them and the pounding footsteps that were fast approaching behind him, he slipped into the room.

    Beyond the door, on his right, stood a row of stalls. Gray walls wrapped around toilets to afford the user a degree of privacy. Opposite the stalls was a row of white porcelain sinks and above each was a mirror.

    Gus was drawn to the mirror, having never seen himself as much as he could recall, the sound of movement in one of the stalls interrupted him and he spun around with the pistol leveled at the door as a farmhand emerged from within the stall. It was the one he recognized as Brodie and he stepped towards him. His hands spread in a questioning manner as Brodie backed away.

    Gus grunted, unable to make any other sound, his hand once more going to the puckered wound on his neck, he could feel the stitches with his fingers.

    “Don’t hurt me, please,” Brodie said as he backed away.

    From the corner of his eye Gus caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror to his right as Brodie backed towards the door. It drew him like a moth to a flame and with Brodie forgotten he spun around to look at himself in the mirror. What he saw gazing back at him was the same face he’d seen upon his arrival.

    Short sandy hair crowning a face that formed a near perfect circle with wide spaced eyes, and a pug nose above a thin mouth.

    No!

    It couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible, he wasn’t one of them. He had a wife, kids, a home. He had been the assistant manager of a farmers co-op. His finger went to his throat, he fel that puckered wound, the stitches protruding from his flesh. But when he looked in the mirror all he saw was the unblemished skin of his neck.

    No!

    A commotion at the door drew his attention and he turned to confront several farmhands pushing their way through the door with weapons aimed in his direction. He lifted the pistol and aimed the shaking muzzle at them. Bullets ripped through tender flesh, spinning him around and he fell face first towards the floor, his last thoughts clinging to the notion that it had all been a terrible mistake.

    To be continued!